


You Will Go On a Long Journey… In Bed

by Stella_Notecor



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non Consensual, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 12:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_Notecor/pseuds/Stella_Notecor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chekov is Sulu’s best friend. He saved Sulu’s life, shares some of his hobbies, and knows him better than anyone. But Chekov is different now. Sulu doesn’t know what to make of his friend or if he’ll ever understand Chekov again.</p><p>Sulu is Chekov’s savior. He is Chekov’s best friend, the man whose memory keeps Chekov sane when he is sold into sex slavery, and the person Chekov loves. But the man and the memory are not the same. Sulu doesn’t love Chekov and now that Chekov has been ruined, he never will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Angst, Non-con and Dub-con (of the unsexy variety and not between Sulu/Chekov), and M/M/M with dual penetration. The sex scenes are mostly rapes of Chekov by OCs. **It may be triggering.**

“Who do you trust, boy?” The slave leaned forward, pulling against the chain wrapped around her long, thin neck. “Who do you trust?”

Chekov didn’t bother to turn his head and look at the slave. That involved moving, and moving meant pain. “No one,” he whispered.

The slave settled back against the wall. Chekov could see the bones beneath the woman’s purple skin. He had never seen the species before he met the slave, so he didn’t know if being able to see the bones was a normal thing. He doubted it. The slave traders fed all of them the smallest amount of food they could. If Chekov looked down, he’d be able to see his own ribs. In a few more weeks, he’d probably be able to count them all.

“I’m impressed. Only took you two months to learn. Took me six to get it through my skull.” The slave cackled. “But I know it now, and I tell it to every new person they put in here with me. You can’t trust anyone!”

Chekov closed his eyes. He had told the woman that he trusted no one, but it was only to get her off his back. There were still good people out there. Chekov remembered them. Captain Kirk did anything he could to save his crew. He would come for Chekov soon. And Dr. McCoy might grouch, but he would make Chekov healthy again. Uhura would be instrumental in understanding the slave traders’ language and discovering where he was. Even Spock would use his logic to determine how to retrieve Chekov safely.

And then there would be Sulu. His best friend would never abandon him. When Chekov was feeling his worst, when a “customer” had raped him to near unconsciousness, when he hadn’t been given any food in two days, he thought of Sulu. Sulu would pilot the _Enterprise_ right up to the slave trader’s ship. He would beam down, sword in one hand and phaser in the other, and kill every man who held Chekov down and forced him to do things. Sulu would gather Chekov close and order a beam-up. He would carry Chekov to sickbay himself and stay by Chekov’s side until Dr. McCoy forced him to leave.

Sulu would protect him and hover over him for weeks until Chekov would be ready to scream. Except Chekov wouldn’t scream because the worrying would always be better than the raping, and Chekov didn’t even scream for the worst of the bastards.

Chekov trusted Sulu. His best friend would come save him. Chekov knew he would.

~*~

“Does anyone else think that moon looks a bit obscene?” Kirk asked about a moon that looked a bit like a human butt.

Sulu turned to Chekov, wanting to laugh at the Captain’s weird statement with him. Then he remembered that Chekov wasn’t the navigator anymore.

Two months. He hadn’t seen his friend in two months. This first month hadn’t been unexpected; the _Enterprise_ had been spacedocked for some repairs and upgrades. The month-long shore leave had been well-earned. Everyone fled the ship to spend some time lounging on Earth.

Chekov had said he was going home to Russia for most of the month. Sulu had protested—he wanted to spend some time with his best friend in San Francisco—but Chekov was barely eighteen and he had missed his mother terribly during their first six-month long mission. So Sulu let him go without too much of a fuss.

And he never came back.

Sulu didn’t know Chekov’s mother’s name or how to contact her. Chekov didn’t reply to any of the transmissions Sulu sent through Chekov’s Starfleet account, nor did he reply to the messages Sulu sent to his personal account. The captain said Chekov never contacted him when Sulu asked. Uhura, Spock, even Dr. McCoy… no one had heard from Chekov. Sulu had no idea why Chekov hadn’t come back. He could only assume that Chekov decided he wasn’t cut out for space travel after all.

It hurt that Chekov had abandoned him. He thought they were friends. _Best_ friends. But apparently Chekov had never felt as close to Sulu as he had felt to Chekov.

Sulu glanced back down at his console. It didn’t feel right to pilot the _Enterprise_ without Chekov by his side. He wondered if Chekov would ever try to contact him.

~*~

Chekov started screaming at the end of five months. He was skin and bones now, and no respectable customer wanted him. So he was given to customers who made the rapists seem like they had made love to him.

These were the kinky customers. They liked chains and whips. They liked ball gags and butt plugs. They liked nipple clamps and cock rings. And they really liked using them without consent and causing pain.

Once upon a time, Chekov had liked a bit of kink in his bedroom. Chains could be fun, and his first boyfriend had put a pair of handcuffs to good use. There had also been a judicious use of safety words.

Now the sight of any kind of toy filled Chekov with terror. The butt plugs were too big and tore him apart. The customers used the ball gag to shut him up then whipped him until he bled his way into unconsciousness. The nipple clamps weren’t too bad, until a customer tightened one too much and ripped a whole nipple off. And safety words didn’t exist.

The worst was the cock ring though. For the cock ring to work the way the customers wanted, Chekov had to enjoy what they were doing to him. The fact that it was only physical pleasure meant nothing. Chekov didn’t want to orgasm. He didn’t want his body to like the things they did to him.

He kept screaming for seven weeks. Then some men decided they wanted two slaves at once, so they could have an orgy. Chekov didn’t learn this until he was dragged into a cell where a young girl was already being ravaged. Things happened quickly after that. Chekov’s underwear, the only piece of clothing he was allowed to wear, were ripped from his body. The men took their time with him, stretching his ass slowly and poking at his prostate until Chekov was erect. Then they added the cock ring, shoved a dick in him from both ends, and proceeded to violate him.

Chekov tried to hold back the screams, but they came anyway, drowning out the laughter of the men. And when they finally took off the cock ring and forced him to come, the screams were louder than ever.

The men abandoned them in the room when they were done. Chekov did not bother to check the door. He knew it would be locked. It had taken four months for him to break the habit of checking for unlocked doors. Now he saved his energy. The slave traders would leave them in the room until the next customers arrived. If Chekov was lucky, the slave traders would leave him in there until the next evening. If he was really lucky, he’d even get food. He closed his eyes and imagined the food: just gruel and water, but so much better than the gnawing hunger pains.

He calmly opened his eyes again when something touched his shoulder. He wasn’t expecting it, but unexpected touches had stopped shocking him months ago. The slave girl was sitting next to him.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly.

Chekov sighed. “You must be new.”

She tilted her head to the side. The slave traders had chopped off her hair; it hung down to her chin in uneven clumps. “What makes you say that?”

“After a few months, you realize that nothing will ever be alright again.” Chekov closed his eyes again. Her big blue eyes seemed too innocent. “They will fuck the life out of you. They will take away your soul.”

“Not if I do not let them.” She radiated warmth beside him. “The mind is a powerful tool. If you do not let them reach your soul, they can only destroy your body.”

It sounded lovely. Everything had sounded lovely in the early days. He had told himself that if he did not scream, they could not hurt him. He told himself that no matter how they made his body feel, they could never destroy his mind. But then he realized that six months had passed and no one had come for him. No one would ever come for him. They had stolen him off the streets of San Francisco during shore leave. Everyone probably thought he had simply gone home to Russia, afraid to face space again. No one was looking for him.

Chekov opened his eyes. “They will break you soon. Six months. At six months, we are thin and ugly. Then they give us to the bad ones.”

She laid a soft hand on his face. It was warmer than a human hand should be. “I have been here a year and a half.”

Chekov scoffed. “You lie.”

“Let me show you.” The fingers on his face moved. “My mind to your mind,” she whispered. “My thoughts to your thoughts.”

Images flooded Chekov’s mind. He was surprised to discover that the girl was a Vulcan. Her ship had been captured by space pirates when she was fourteen years old. The older Vulcans had been killed and the younger ones had been sold into slavery. She had not seen or heard from the real world in two years. She would not know about the attack on Vulcan then.

In his mind, Chekov heard her gasp. His memories of the attack bubbled up, pulled out of his subconscious by her. Then he felt her emotions rolling over him. Sadness and anger, the likes of which he had never faced, enveloped him. _My planet. My people!_ echoed in his head.

She fell out of his head then and scuttled away from him. “I had always assumed that when I escaped I could return home. I never thought there would be no home to return to.” She covered her eyes with her hands.

Chekov felt bad for having destroyed her hope. He was amazed that she still had any. “There is a home for you.” He tried to give her back as much hope as he could. “They have colonized a new planet, named it New Vulcan. You will be most welcome there.”

When she drew her hands away from her face, Chekov expected to see tears on her cheeks, but her eyes were dry. “Then I must help rebuild my race.” She nodded slowly. “It is good that I met you and discovered this now. It will increase my desire to escape and help me retain my sanity.”

Chekov wished he had a reason to remain sane. “How do you do it? How did you last this long?” His mother in Russia would be fine without him, if sad, and Starfleet had navigators available to replace him. Chekov wanted to believe that people would miss him, but hope lay in that direction and hope led to disappointment.

The girl pointed to her head. “Vulcan meditation. I do it while I am being… used. It keeps me from thinking about what is happening.”

“How do you empty your mind during _that_?” Every time they touched him, it was another reminder of what had already been done to him. He tried to ignore what they were doing, but the pain made it impossible.

“Vulcan meditation does not rely on clearing the mind. Instead, we focus on one thing, considering it from all aspects.” She ducked her head shyly. “I choose to focus on my bond mate—my fiancé, in your terms. He was sold as well. I know he is still alive, for I can feel him in the back of my mind. I focus on him and imagine what we will do when we escape.”

“He is here?” Chekov asked.

She looked up at him. Her lips were ever so slightly turned down. “I do not know. I have not seen him since we were sold.”

“I am sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for.” She looked around the room, as if searching for a window. There was none. “It is getting late now. We must sleep.”

Chekov nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Pavel Chekov.”

He glanced at her. “My name…?”

“It was in your mind. I am T’Plen.” She laid down on the floor, the only bed the slave traders provided. “Consider meditating. It will make things more bearable.”

“Alright.” Chekov closed his eyes. He hoped this would be a day of rest for once. “Goodnight, T’Plen.”

Chekov woke up when they came to take T’Plen away. They said nothing to each other as she left. Talking amongst the slaves was not allowed. Chekov hoped she continued to stay hopeful. She was a sweet girl. He did not want her to end up like him.

A customer came in for Chekov soon after. Chekov scrambled to his feet to face the man. He was a Klingon. The man had weapons strapped at his waist, and one of the slave traders had brought in a chest of bondage toys.

“You are disgusting.” The Klingon snarled at him. “Still covered in the fluids of others, they dare to present you to me? You are filth, and I shall cover you in it.”

Chekov watched the man disrobe then closed his eyes. At least the Klingon wouldn’t use the cock ring.

When he felt hands grab his arms and twist them behind his back, Chekov thought of what T’Plen had said. He couldn’t forget what was happening to him, but he could focus on something else. As rope was wrapped around his arms, Chekov thought of the _Enterprise_. He was forced to his knees while he was imagining himself on the bridge. The Klingon shoved his cock into Chekov’s mouth, but Chekov was navigating by then and navigators did not have cocks in their mouths.

A scenario played out in his head. A Klingon warbird was attacking the _Enterprise_. Chekov was busy working with Sulu. They shared the duties, locking on and shooting the warbird in turn. The shields were steady, but slowly being forced down. Chekov looked for a way to escape and saw it. If they hit the warbird’s flank, they might damage the ship’s starboard nacelle. The warbird would be unable to follow when they fled.

As if Sulu had read his mind, he locked on and fired. Chekov began to lock in a course before the reports even came in. When Sulu announced, “The enemy has been disabled,” Chekov steadied his hand over the final button. When Kirk called, “Take us out of here, Mr. Chekov,” Chekov pressed the button.

“We are already gone, Keptin.”

The crew relaxed slowly, the threat of attack left in their stardust. Sulu grinned at Chekov, and Chekov smiled in return.

Kirk pumped his fist in the air. “Yes! Great job crew! And just in time for shift change.”

Chekov laughed because that would, of course, be the first thing that came to Kirk’s mind. The captain was never really off duty, but he knew the rest of them looked forward to shift change. Chekov began to set things up for his relief.

By the time the ensign arrived in the turbolift, Chekov was set. He passed off the controls, waited for Sulu to hand over the flight controls to his relief, and then both of them headed for the lift. Sulu grinned at him when they got inside of it. “We did awesome today.”

“We did! Your maneuver was perfect!” Chekov couldn’t hold back the happy laughter inside of him.

Sulu just kept grinning. “It was only because I had your help with the lock-ons. You are the king of lock-ons, I swear.”

The lift arrived at the mess hall and Chekov headed straight for the food synthesizers. “It was nothing,” he said then added, “Fried rice with pork, please. Oh, and a fortune cookie!”

Sulu made a face. “Have you ever eaten real Chinese food?”

Chekov picked up his rice as it materialized in front of him. “This is not real?” he teased. The food was real and edible, but not authentic.

Punching him in the shoulder, Sulu said, “When we go home for shore leave again, I’m taking you home and making my mama cook real Chinese for you.” He turned to the food synthesizer. “Two slices of pizza with mushrooms, onions, green peppers, sausage, pepperoni, and extra cheese.” He grabbed his pizza when it arrived and then they moved to a table. Chekov went back up to get drinks and Sulu got the utensils, and then they both settled down to eat.

“I thought you were Japanese,” Chekov said before he took a bite of rice.

“I’m half Japanese, a quarter Chinese, and a quarter Filipino.” Sulu took a minute to eat a bite of pizza. “Though, if you’re going by where I was born, I’m pure-blooded American.”

“Ah, I see.” Chekov opened his fortune cookie since he’d eaten a few bites of food. It was bad luck to open the cookie before eating, but he could never wait for the end of the meal, so he compromised. “You will go on a long journey,” he read aloud.

“…in bed,” Sulu added.

Chekov just rolled his eyes. “You do not have to say that after every fortune.”

“Yes, I do!” Sulu laughed. “Anyway, considering you _are_ on a long journey, that’s kind of anti-climatic.”

Chekov shrugged. “It is still fun.”

“Don’t you get the same fortune every time? I mean, everything else comes out of the synthesizers completely identical.”

Chekov tried not to smirk. “They used to always be the same, but then I reconfigured the synthesizers. There are now one hundred possible fortunes. Plus, the fortune cookies also come in chocolate!” It had been hard to create scans of the molecular structures of one hundred different fortune cookies. Then Chekov had to create a subroutine in the computer to allow for random selection of any of the cookies when the general request “fortune cookie” was made. Then he had repeated the process for “chocolate fortune cookie”.

“And let me guess… you didn’t ask permission before hijacking the synthesizers either.” Sulu shook his head. “It’s a good thing you’re on Starfleet’s side. If our enemies had got you first, you’d probably be able to bring down the entire Federation by programming all the food synthesizers to spit out nothing but fake Chinese food.”

“No, no. I would use Russian food!” Chekov nodded seriously. “I would make it so the only thing people could eat was Borscht. And I would give you nothing to drink but vodka. You would eat until your stomachs were ready to burst and then you would drink yourselves to death with vodka.” Sulu burst into laughter. Chekov chuckled along with him. They spent the rest of the meal eating and talking.

Chekov let whole conversations play out in his mind. He imagined things Sulu would say to make him laugh. He pretended they had all the time in the world to sit in the mess hall talk about anything and everything. And when Chekov finally came out of his mind, the Klingon was gone.

His body was sore. He had been whipped and the Klingon must have used one of his weapons because Chekov didn’t know where else he could have got bruises shaped liked stars. Chekov had felt none of it though. He had buried himself far enough inside his mind that the Klingon hadn’t been able to touch his soul, just like T’Plen said.

For the first time in over six months, Chekov smiled.

~*~

Sulu looked around the briefing room. Captain Kirk had received orders about a new mission and asked them all to join him in the conference room to talk about it. Sulu had no idea what the mission was about, and nobody else seemed to know either.

Uhura, Spock, Scotty, McCoy, and Twilit were seated around the table with Sulu. Kirk looked around the room when he entered. Apparently satisfied that everyone had arrived, Kirk took the seat at the head of the table. “I know you’re all wondering why I called this meeting,” Kirk said. “It’s because I’ve received orders from Starfleet about our next mission. This is incredibly confidential, and what I say must never leave this ship. Do you all agree to maintain your silence?”

Sulu nodded along with everyone else.

“Very well.” Kirk took a deep breath. “Starfleet has been tracing a slave ring for six years now. They only just managed to place a spy in the ring. The spy has sent Starfleet the coordinates where the slave traders’ ship will be in three months.”

“Why three months? Why not now?” McCoy asked.

“Partially because the slave ship is stationed far out in the Beta quadrant and it will take us that long to get to it, but also because we need to train operatives to go in undercover and rescue these people.” Kirk sighed. “These aren’t just any slaves—they’re sex slaves. We’re going to have to look like a pretty rough group if we want to get access to them. In fact, Starfleet has ordered us to pretend to be renegades from the law. Starting tomorrow, we are officially on the lam.”

Twilit frowned and his antennae twitched. “Why are we going to so much trouble to stage a rescue mission?”

Sulu knew he was gaping, but he couldn’t stop. Really, how could anyone ask that? These people needed to be rescued, and so the _Enterprise_ would rescue them. It was as simple as that.

Twilit was an idiot. Yeah, the Andorian was one of the best navigators in Starfleet, but the man was fucking stupid. Of course, Sulu was also judging him against Chekov, and there weren’t many people who were as smart as Chekov.

Sulu propped his chin up with his hand. Uhura was scolding Twilit for being stupid now, which meant Sulu had plenty of time to think. So he thought about Chekov. He still hadn’t heard from his friend. It had been seven long months, but there hadn’t been any word from Chekov. Sulu felt abandoned. Sulu still tried to get in touch with Chekov, sending him a note every other week. He didn’t understand why Chekov wouldn’t reply to him.

He was starting to lose hope that Chekov would ever contact him.

Sulu was startled out of his thoughts when Kirk suddenly growled. “Enough! We’re going to rescue these people because they deserve to be rescued. Period.”

Twilit nodded. “Of course! I never meant to imply that we wouldn’t rescue them. I was just wondering why we had to go to such lengths to do so. Couldn’t we simply attack the ship and beam the slaves aboard?”

“The ship’s decked out with high-grade military features that we could never hope to defeat. They have transporter dampeners installed and the spy has informed us that the ship is set to self-destruct if capture seems imminent.” Kirk crossed his arms. “The head honcho of the ring doesn’t stay on the ship, so he’d rather kill hundreds of innocent people and his crew than have us get a hold of them.”

Sulu let out a whistle. “Hundreds?”

Kirk nodded. “Hundreds of men and women of every alien species you can imagine. That’s how they caught Starfleet’s eye—they’ve been attacking Federation ships, killing the older passengers and taking the younger passengers on board as slaves.”

Uhura shook her head. “All those poor people…”

“Exactly.” Kirk stood. “And now that you all understand, I need you to hold down the fort while I talk to the rest of the crew. Nearly every crewperson is going to have to take part in the rescue mission, which means all of us are going to have to learn how to act like the kind of people who would solicit prostitutes.”

The meeting adjourned quickly and Sulu took over the conn so his relief could attend the meeting in the mess hall. He did not envy Kirk having to explain to the entire crew that they were now deserters.

The repercussions of this act would be huge. For the slave traders to get the news that they had abandoned Starfleet, the whole Federation would have to hear about it as well. Sulu couldn’t even imagine what his mother would say when she found out. And he wouldn’t be able to tell her what was really happening until it was all over.

~*~

Chekov soon lived primarily in his fantasies. He didn’t think that was what T’Plen meant when she described the meditation, but it was so much easier to live in his mind than in the real world.

He spent most of his time on the _Enterprise_. Sometimes he imagined going home and visiting his mother, but there wasn’t much to imagine when it came to his home. When he thought of the _Enterprise_ , he imagined all kinds of strange adventures. It kept him busy, thinking up things for the crew to do.

His favorite storyline evolved slowly. Chekov always wanted to be braver. He was smart, but his intelligence made him cowardly. Chekov considered how each move he made would affect his next actions, and it slowed him down and made him afraid to do anything. In his brain, his actions didn’t matter and it was easy to be brave.

The fantasy began with Chekov and Sulu on an away mission. The planet they were on was uninhabited and seemingly only had plant life. Sulu was excited and babbling on about every plant they saw.

“Oh! Look! This is a climbing vine. I’ve never seen one with orange leaves before. I wonder if they’re the plant’s flowers, and not actually leaves.” Sulu stooped down to grab the plant. It released a puff of orange pollen into the air.

Chekov laughed when Sulu turned around and wrinkled his nose. “Your face is orange, Hikaru!"

Sulu sneezed. “Ugh. I should know better than to touch random plants by now.”

They returned to cataloging the plants and landscape. As navigator, Chekov had to map sections of the planet in each of its climates to provide a base upon which the computer could extrapolate the foliage and landform coverage of the planet. The forest climate they were currently in was pleasant. They were scheduled to visit the tundra the next day, and Chekov was not looking forward to it.

Sulu grumbled but kept going. He wiped most of the orange pollen from his face, but the remainder smeared on his face as he sweated, and he kept sneezing violently. Chekov offered to return to the ship for medical treatment, but Sulu insisted that he was fine.

As they walked, the sky grew dark above them. Chekov did not notice the gathering rain clouds until they opened up and poured down on them. There was no cover in the forest except for the trees. Chekov chose the shortest tree he could find and led Sulu to it. Lightning crackled above them and Chekov cursed. The _Enterprise_ wouldn’t be able to beam them aboard if the air was filled up with ions.

He turned on his communicator anyway. “Chekov to _Enterprise_. Can you beam us up?”

Uhura’s voice greeted him. “Sorry, Mr. Chekov. Scans are showing too many ions in the atmosphere. You’ll have to wait for the storm to clear.”

“All right. Chekov out.” They couldn’t beam and the shuttlecrafts couldn’t fly through lightning storms. They were trapped on the planet.

Sulu sat on the ground next to Chekov. His head lolled to the side and he looked like a rag doll.

“Hikaru? Are you all right?”

Sulu moved his head a little, as if he was trying to shake it, but it mostly just flopped around on his neck. “I don’ feel good. Head’s dizzy.”He sneezed again and his whole body shuddered. “I think I’m allergic to tha’ pollen.”

Chekov wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew that he needed to get the pollen off of Sulu. He yanked off his shirt and held it out in the pouring rain until it was completely soaked. Then he gently wiped all the pollen off Sulu’s face. There were orange stains on his nose and cheeks that wouldn’t come off.

Sulu started shivering and wouldn’t stop. “So cold,” he murmured. His eyes closed and he slumped against the tree. Chekov didn’t think Sulu could move.

There was nothing Chekov could do except try to keep him warm. He curled up next to Sulu, wrapping his body around Sulu’s. The rain wasn’t letting up. He rubbed Sulu’s hands and arms to generate heat. Shifting Sulu gently, he tried to use his body to shield Sulu from the worst of the rain.

When Chekov first heard the sound, he thought it was just a strange thunderclap. Then it came again, closer, a deep rumble just behind Chekov. He spun around and found himself face to face with a giant cat. The cat had fierce claws and long eyeteeth, like the extinct saber tooth tiger on Earth. Chekov slowly moved Sulu behind him and tugged his phaser from his belt.

The cat growled and swiped a paw at him, but it was too far away to reach him. Chekov set the phaser to stun and fired. The blast hit the cat in the head, and it fell over dead. Chekov felt badly—the cat was only trying to eat or protect itself, it didn’t deserve to die, and Chekov only wanted to stun it, but stuns were notoriously off when it came to animals—but he didn’t regret killing the cat. He had to protect Sulu.

The phaser in his hand gave him an idea. There was no dry wood in the area thanks to the rain, so Chekov couldn’t start a fire, but if Chekov blasted a few rocks with the phaser on stun, it should warm them up. Chekov made sure that Sulu was alright and then he left to go find some larger rocks. There were a large number of rocks the size of his head nearby. Chekov carried them over to Sulu one by one. When he reached Sulu, he set the rock to the side, blasted it with the phaser, and checked to see how hot it was. If it was touchable, Chekov set the rock next to Sulu. He didn’t let the rocks touch Sulu, just in case they were warmer than they seemed. Extended exposure to moderate heat could burn human skin.

By the time the rain slaked off, Sulu was surrounded by rocks that Chekov warmed every once in a while with his phaser. Sulu was no longer shivering. “The rain is slowing,” Chekov said. “We’ll be able to beam onboard the ship soon.”

Sulu’s head flopped in parody of a nod. “‘Kay.”

Chekov stood and pulled Sulu up with him. Sulu sagged into his arms, and Chekov wrapped an arm around his waist. Chekov tapped his communicator on. “Chekov to _Enterprise_. The lightning is over and we are getting soaked. Please tell me you can get us out of here.”

Scotty’s voice jumped out of the communicator. “We’re still reading high levels of ions in your area…”

“Sulu is hurt. He needs medical treatment.” Chekov stared at the sky. The dark clouds were clearing rapidly. “Please send down a shuttlecraft with a med team.”

“I’m on it,” Scotty promised and ended the transmission.

Chekov led Sulu over to a large patch of grass that had some sun on it. Their clothes were soaked, so he stripped off his undershirt and helped Sulu take off his shirt and undershirt. The grass was damp, but the ground was warm, so he laid Sulu down.

Sulu squirmed a little in the sunlight. “It’s warm.”

“Good.” Chekov peered up at the sky. Average response time of a shuttlecraft was fifteen minutes. The rain itself lasted for thirty-five minutes, but the time they had to wait for the shuttlecraft stretched out endlessly before them.

Once the shuttlecraft landed, Dr. McCoy scrambled out of it. “What happened?” He loomed over the two of them. “Mr. Sulu, what did you do to yourself now?”

Sulu didn’t answer. His mouth fell open and he puffed out a little breath.

Chekov brushed a finger across one of the orange stains on Sulu’s face. “He touched this plant and it poofed orange pollen into the air. The pollen got on his face and he ended up like this.”

McCoy’s medical tricorder was out in a flash. He knelt down to run it over Sulu. “Heart rate down to 46, apparent bradycardia. Body temperature down to thirty-four degrees Celsius.” McCoy prodded Sulu in the side. There was no reaction. “Reflexes and nerve sensations diminished.” He pried open Sulu’s eyelids. “Pupils abnormally contracted.” He sat back on his heels and waved a hand at the crew members exiting the shuttlecraft. “He’s in shock. We need to get him back on the _Enterprise_ as soon as possible.”

Chekov helped McCoy tug Sulu up and they helped Sulu walk over to the shuttlecraft. McCoy and two nurses prepared hyposprays for Sulu while Chekov strapped him into a seat and the pilot readied the craft for take-off. Chekov took the seat next to Sulu, even though he knew it made more sense for the doctor to sit there. After a few hyposprays, Sulu was looking a little more alert and Chekov grabbed Sulu’s hand to reassure him that everything would be okay.

The nurses and McCoy took their seats and the shuttlecraft lifted off the ground. Sulu frowned. “I hate flying when I’m not the pilot. We could crash and I wouldn’ be able to do anything ‘bout it.”

His speech was still slurred, but it was the most he had said in an hour. Chekov squeezed his hand. “We will be fine. You are feeling better?”

Sulu managed to nod, but his head still flopped around a little more than normal. “I’m glad you were there.”

Chekov was glad too. He couldn’t even imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t been there. The cat could have gotten Sulu, or he might not have found cover and been hit by lightning. If he lost consciousness before he could call the _Enterprise_ , the pollen could have killed him. The possibilities were frightening, so Chekov pushed them out of his mind. Sulu would be fine because Chekov was there to help him. Because Chekov didn’t panic and because he killed the cat and kept Sulu warm. Because Chekov was brave.

The dream usually ended with Sulu getting checked into sick bay and Chekov reporting to the bridge where Captain Kirk commended him for his quick thinking with the rocks. Chekov came out of the fantasy then, only to find a huge Orion buried inside him. His mind skittered away from the green skin and bald head and fastened onto what it had just been thinking of: Hikaru Sulu.

A new fantasy built itself in Chekov’s mind, one he had never considered before. Sulu was his best friend. He loved Chekov platonically. But what if that love wasn’t platonic? What if Sulu loved him passionately? His imagination took the images of the Orion and superimposed Sulu over them.

No! That wasn’t right. Sulu would never take Chekov that harshly.

Chekov imagined how Sulu would take him. There would be no pain. Sulu would use lube, lots of it. He would be afraid of hurting Chekov as he slid inside. Once he was inside, Sulu would go slowly, frustrating Chekov to the point that he would beg, “Faster, Hikaru. Faster!”

Sulu would make love to him, holding his gaze as they moved together. He would press kisses to Chekov’s cheeks, chin, nose, forehead, eyelids. He would hold Chekov close and whisper sweet words in his ears. He would bring Chekov to the edge of oblivion and then slip over it with him, their hands clasped together tightly as they fell.

Then afterward, Sulu would clean them off and cuddle close to Chekov. They’d have murmured conversations about botany and literature. Chekov would jest that every great thing ever made was invented in Russia and Sulu would pretend that everything could be fixed with a plant or a sword.

Chekov rose from the fantasy slowly. The Orion was gone, but Chekov wasn’t alone. There was a new client gearing up for him. This one was fondling a spiked cock ring.

The fantasy world washed up around him. Chekov didn’t bother to call to mind one of his storylines. Instead, he just thought of Sulu. Sulu always tried to protect Chekov from things like this. He refused to take Chekov to bars or clubs on shore leave until he was eighteen, and even after Chekov turned eighteen, Sulu wouldn’t enter the nastier places if Chekov was with him. Chekov didn’t mind though because Sulu never abandoned him to go hang out in a pub with his friends. Instead, he chose activities they could do together. He taught Chekov some of the basics of fencing and Chekov taught him some Russian in return. They spent time together in the greenhouse, Sulu working with his plants and Chekov working with his formulae.

Even when they didn’t spend time together, Chekov knew Sulu often thought about him. Sometimes Sulu would bring him a little trinket from an away mission, an interesting rock or a strange plant that Chekov usually killed within a week. And Chekov tried to be just as friendly, sharing his stash of Russian vodka, courtesy of his mother who understood what alcohol meant to a man, and taking the time to make sure Sulu’s PADDs and other electronics were in tiptop shape.

Chekov had seen his mother do the same things for his father when he was still alive. She hadn’t catered to his every whim, but she had always had a bottle of his favorite whisky stashed away. If he had a bad day at work, she would pull out the bottle and rub his feet while he drank a couple glasses and decompressed. In return, he would treat her to a night on the town when she was feeling run down and then he would do his best to clean the house for her, though she usually had to go along behind him and finish the job.

His parents loved each other terribly. His mother’s heart broke the day his father died, and Chekov doubted it would ever heal. And even after watching his mother suffer through the loss of his father, Chekov always wished for a love like theirs. He kissed his fair share of toads while at the academy, and never found a prince. Then he met Sulu and the need for a white knight to rescue him didn’t seem so pressing. Chekov liked spending time with Sulu and getting to know him. Even though Chekov was homosexual, he didn’t feel the need to consider Sulu as a potential suitor. Being friends was enough.

Chekov might have started to consider them more than friends though. He was never as close to any of his ex-boyfriends as he was to Sulu, and he never found a relationship so like his parents’ before. If Chekov had not been kidnapped, perhaps he and Sulu could have fallen in love. Perhaps he could have had the quiet romance of his parents.

The man finished. Chekov’s thoughts were barely on the surface of his mind as he fought exhaustion. Maybe he loved Sulu, just a bit. It was a friendly love, at least. As sleep pulled Chekov into unconsciousness, he wondered if he would ever see Sulu again.

~*~

The three months were almost over. The entire ship was moving about with baited breath now, waiting for the moment when Kirk announced they would be launching the rescue mission.

Sulu spent the three months tending to his plants and reading some Terran novels Chekov had given him before he disappeared. His mother sent him a message every day, berating him for staying with a bandit crew. Sulu hadn’t replied to any of them. He almost wished the three months would never end, just because he didn’t want to face his mother’s wrath.

The crew had settled into their roles. Even though they were officially renegades, they’d been mapping an unexplored sector of the galaxy for Starfleet. Sulu went on more away missions to explore new planets in the three months than he had in his entire prior year on the _Enterprise_. He kind of resented that Starfleet had, in essence, abandoned them but was still forcing them to work. He knew it was a waste of personnel to just sit in space for three months, but at least they were training! Would it really have killed the high command to give them a little time off?

Actually, the high command was pretty anal about shore leaves. Giving them extra time off might have given one of the geezers a heart attack.

They were finally completing their training though. A week or two more and they would be infiltrating the slave ship. Everyone on board had received combat training. Phaser targeting had been a mandatory class for all of them, and each person had been expected to learn a new method of person-to-person combat. Sulu had taught the swordsmanship class and taken the martial arts class.

Outside of combat, they all practiced their deception skills and ability to make decisions under pressure. Assignments for the mission had been made based on who came out of the psychological tests most intact. The lives of hundreds of people were in their hands, and every skill set they owned needed to be as sharp as Sulu’s katana.

Kirk was, unsurprisingly, the leader of the assault team. Their captain had proven, under a harsh battery of testing, that he was scared of almost nothing. Spock had the second lowest fear score. Most of the other crewmembers with low scores were members of security.

Sulu had scored surprisingly high for a pilot. He couldn’t help it though; when they had placed him in the artificial simulator, the first slave he met was a Human boy with big hazel eyes and curly hair like Chekov’s. The sudden fear that Chekov was out there somewhere, being held against his will, had frozen him long enough for the slave traders to “kill” him.

Sulu was prepared for the mission though. He was going to get those people out alive.

One day, Twilit leaned over the navigation console and asked, “Do you think you will make it out alive?”

The question irritated Sulu. Just because Twilit was Andorian and fatally allergic to phaser fire, he had been excused from the active fighting. He didn’t have to worry about anything except getting the _Enterprise_ as far away from the slave traders as possible when the Captain gave the signal. “I’m not going to die in there, and I’m not going to let any of the slaves die either.”

Twilit had nodded. “Good. Andorians have always respected those who fight for honor.”

The statement had appeased Sulu, but it had also made him think. He wasn’t sure he _would_ make it out alive. If it came down to it, Sulu would fight to the death to save those people and he was proud of that.

He brought that feeling into the classroom with him. When he swung his sword, he swung to hurt, to kill. He fought hard, anxious to bring his students up to par. He expected them to fight back, to want to win.

He expected too much. Out of a class of nine, there was only one person who tried to meet his expectations. Ensign Teresa Vargas was remarkable with both the broadsword and the short sword, but her real skill lay with the machete.

“You did great today, Teresa,” he said after one class.

She smiled at him and wiped down the machete blade with a soft cloth before sheathing it. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

On impulse, Sulu clapped a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “We’re off duty. Sulu is fine.” He grinned. Teresa was a good looking woman and an engineer, which meant there were no rules about fraternization among the chain of command to deal with. “Or if you want, you could call me Hikaru.”

“I’d like that.” She turned toward the door. “I’m free till Gamma shift. Would you like to get some dinner?”

“I’d love to. I’ll drop my stuff off in my room and meet you in the mess hall.” Sulu walked her to the lift and then headed off in the other direction. While he was in his room he took a few minutes to tidy things up and he put his equipment away in the closet for once instead of leaving it in his chair. Gamma shift didn’t start till 2400 hours. There was plenty of time to eat dinner and maybe come back to his room for a little… stress relief.

Sulu felt a little odd for anticipating sex when he knew that the people they were going to save had to have sex all of the time, regardless of whether they wanted it. Sex should be fun or exciting or beautiful, not something to be dreaded—regardless of how often people joked that one should “just lay back and think of the Federation.”

He sighed and checked that he hadn’t left any dirty clothes on the floor. He liked Teresa, and he hoped she was equally interested in him. There wasn’t anyone on the ship he was close to anymore, and even if they didn’t end up dating, it would be nice to be friends.

~*~

Chekov sat against the wall of the large holding room. He didn’t bother to look at the other slaves. Before she tossed Chekov into the room, one of the slave traders had grinned maliciously and informed him that there was a whole shipload of customers coming that day. Chekov had no idea how long he had until the customers showed up, but he was going to spend the time thinking up a new fantasy.

He thought of his new favorite scenario: Sulu and him, together. Usually he imagined what sex would be like with someone who loved him, but he didn’t want to think about sex right now. Instead, he tried to decide what a date for the two of them would be like.

Sulu liked plants and swords and old movies. Chekov liked books and running and experiments. They both liked computer simulations and swimming. On nights when they used to hang out, they spent most of their time playing computer simulations. Chekov always wanted to play the historical ones because he knew what to expect in those and what he had to do to win. Sulu liked the random simulations that involved away missions gone wrong. Chekov thought he just liked having an excuse to battle monsters with his katana.

So, a date for them would probably start in one of the recreation rooms, playing a simulation. If Sulu were the one arranging the date, he would pick a historical simulation to make Chekov happy, maybe even one set in Russia.

They would finish the simulation, winning—of course—because they were an amazing team. Then they’d be tired and hungry, so they’d stop by the mess hall for some food and take it back to one of their rooms. They’d watch one of Sulu’s favorite movies while they ate and laugh over the stupid parts of it.

By then it would be late. Chekov would try to stifle his yawns, but Sulu would catch him in the middle of one and laugh. He’d tug Chekov over to the bed and pull off his clothes. They’d both slip under the covers in nothing but their boxers.

If they were really tired, they would kiss a bit before they fell asleep. If they still had a little energy, the kisses would deepen. Sulu would let Chekov take the lead, rolling onto his back so Chekov could climb on top and kiss him harder. Chekov would—

The door to the room suddenly burst open. Sulu stood there, katana in one hand, phaser in the other. He wasn’t wearing his yellow command shirt, but it was obviously him. “I’m here on the order of the United Federation of Planets. You’re being saved.” None of the slaves moved. Chekov wondered if he had slipped into another fantasy or if this was really happening. “Come on, guys. We have to get to the transporter room before the ship self-destructs.”

Chekov had never imagined the ship self-destructing before. This had to be real. He clambered to his feet as fast as he could, which wasn’t very fast at all, and threw himself at Sulu. The other slaves followed his lead and began to stand up.

Sulu staggered as Chekov hugged him. “Oh, Hikaru, I have missed you.”

Sulu’s hands came up and grabbed Chekov’s shoulders. He shoved Chekov backwards and stared him in the face. “Pavel?”

Chekov couldn’t hold back his smile to save his life. “Hikaru!” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sulu’s. It was a soft kiss, nothing like the ones he had often dreamed they would share when Sulu rescued him, but they had to hurry. There was no time to make out. He released Sulu and stepped back, putting himself into a more business-like train of thought. “What can I do to help?”

Sulu blinked a few times and his mouth fell open. “What did you… What are you doing here?”

“No time!” Chekov shook his head. “Tell me what I must do.”

Sulu cleared his throat. “We’ve got to get to the transporter room. The turbolifts are shut down, so we’ll have to make our way there through the service tunnels.”

Chekov turned to the other slaves. He didn’t know any of them, but he knew they would trust him more than a stranger. The slaves were united in their common suffering. “I served with this man before my capture. He tells the truth. Follow us.”

There were nearly thirty slaves in the room, only a fraction of the number Chekov knew must be on the ship. They moved to the door slowly and steadily. No one had the muscle strength to move fast anymore, but there was a determination in their steps that Chekov felt in his heart.

Sulu checked outside the room for any slave traders. There was no one there, so he ushered them outside. “We have to move as fast as we can. I’ll lead the way.” Sulu turned to Chekov. “Can you follow behind and make sure everyone gets there?”

“I will do my best,” Chekov promised.

“Alright.” He handed Chekov his phaser. “Be careful. We’re going to be going one hundred meters up and then seventy-five meters over. We’ll come out in the transporter room itself. Everyone be ready to beam out as soon as you step on the pad.”

The slaves nodded and Sulu pulled open the entrance hatch to the service tube. “See you on the other side,” he said to Chekov.

Chekov smiled. “I look forward to it.”

Sulu climbed into the service tube and the other slaves followed. Chekov was the last person in the tube, and he closed the hatch behind him. Movement through the tube was slow and difficult. Chekov hadn’t exercised some of his muscles in months, and the stretch and pull of climbing the tube’s ladder wore him out quickly.

Above him, one of the slaves lost his grip on the rails. He slammed into the person beneath him, knocking him backwards. They both fell into Chekov. He held his grip on the ladder as best as he can, the pressure of the two slaves pulling his arms painfully.

“Are you all right?” he asked them.

The first man who had fallen let out a broken gasp. “Sorry. Too weak. Couldn’t hold on.”

The other man wiggled around a bit. “You have to keep going. We’re almost free.”

The man who had fallen grabbed the ladder again. “I’ll try.”

Chekov helped the other slave boost the man up, then he waited for them to move ahead in the tube. He followed them slowly, the muscles in his arms burning in protest. At last they reached the tube junction where they were to turn. Now they were crawling along a tunnel. It was as uncomfortable as the vertical tube, but it was easier to move in and Chekov could rest for a few seconds when he got tired.

The tunnel ended with an open hatch. Chekov watched the people in front of him climb out and followed them quickly. They were in the transporter room. Sulu and a female ensign Chekov had seen once or twice on the _Enterprise_ stood by the transporter controls.

Sulu nodded at Chekov. “That’s everyone from this group. We’re transporting you in batches. As soon as the pad clears, take a spot and you’ll be sent to the _Enterprise_.”

“I can help more with the rescue. Tell me what to—”

Sulu cut Chekov off. “Believe me, I’m glad for the offer, but I’ve never seen anyone who looked as awful as you do right now. Go to the _Enterprise_.”

“I can help!” Chekov frowned. “They did not show us much of the ship, but I know where all the holding rooms are.”

Sulu approached and grabbed Chekov’s arm. The transporter pad cleared of one group and the last few slaves stepped up onto it. Sulu pushed Chekov up with them. “We’ve got a spy onboard who sent us the blueprints to the ship. Everything’s under control.”

Chekov sighed. In his fantasies, he and Sulu had always freed everyone together. Real life was not as heroic as fantasies. Reaching up, he brushed his fingers across Sulu’s cheek. The unshaved hair prickled his fingertips. “I will go.”

Sulu stepped away quickly. “Good. They’re ready to be beamed, Teresa,” he said over his shoulder. Chekov held his position as Sulu stepped over to the woman. “I’m going to go back out and look for any more survivors.”

The ensign entered the command that would beam them away, then turned to Sulu. “Please, be careful.”

As the tingle of beaming began to trickle through Chekov’s skin, Sulu stepped closer to the ensign. He put a hand on her shoulder. Then Sulu, the man whose memory had kept him sane for so long, leaned forward and kissed the woman.

Chekov realized then that this was real life, and real life was usually closer to a nightmare than a dream.

Chekov closed his eyes as the beam started to blur everything. He was going back to the _Enterprise_ , back to his life. This was a good thing. Real life was real and thus better than a life of fantasies. Still, he almost wished he could go back to living in his imagination.


	2. Chapter 2

“Alright, crew. We’re going to be going in with everything we’ve got. Remember the plan. If things go wrong, get yourself to the transporter room as soon as possible.” Kirk frowned. “Don’t expect the slaves to blindly trust you and don’t push them to do things they can’t. Our spy has informed us that many of these people are weak and ill.”

Sulu saw heads around him nod. They had prepared for that in their training.

“We’ll beam over in groups. Get yourself into a room with a slave and wait for the signal. Retreat with your slave to the transporter room. You’ll be beamed back to the ship. Move to your stations and prepare for battle. Those of you who have been instructed to do otherwise should follow orders unless the plan gets screwed up.” Kirk stiffened his back. “And take care of yourselves. I want all my crewmembers to come back alive.”

With that, Kirk dismissed them. Sulu took his assigned place in the line. A group of five people would be beamed on every few minutes until half the crew, two-hundred people, were on board. Kirk had hoped to get three-quarters of the crew onboard, but the slave traders weren’t equipped to handle that many “clients” at one time, even though they had over five-hundred slaves.

Sulu was in one of the first groups to go onboard. This put him at the highest risk of discovery. It would take over an hour and a half to beam all two-hundred crew members on board. For an hour and a half, Sulu would be in a room with a slave, pretending to have sex with them. The slave traders, according to the spy, would not attempt to look at the room while he was engaged with the slave, but Sulu wasn’t counting on that. Personally, if two-hundred people beamed aboard his ship, Sulu would keep a close eye on them.

He stepped forward as the groups in front of him began to beam aboard. He would have to spend an hour and half alert and waiting. When the beep came through his communicator, indicating that Kirk and Security had brought down most of the slave traders, Sulu would have to race out of the room he was in and make his way to the transporter room with the slave he had been assigned to. Then, as one of the better trained crewpeople, he would have to return to the bowels of the ship and locate the holding rooms. Groups of thirty to fifty people were held in each room, and Sulu would have to convince all of those people to follow him out of the ship.

It was a daunting task. The group ahead of Sulu disappeared off of the transporter pad and he stepped up onto it. He checked his weapons one more time, making sure he had his phaser and katana. The rest of the people in his group took their places and the engineer manning the transporter signaled that he was starting their beam. The transporter room blurred out around him, and when his vision cleared again, he was standing in the slave trader’s transporter room, the only place on the ship that did not have transporter dampeners.

He caught sight of a number of slave traders standing along the wall. As they had expected, the slave traders were of a number of different races. The majority of them seemed to belong to one race; they shared the same facial characteristics: a snub nose, wide foreheads, and huge ears. They looked a bit like the trolls he had seen in fairytale books as a child.

The other traders came from a variety of races. Sulu recognized Orions, Denobulans, Tellarites, and Romulans. It was one of the Romulans who stepped forward, smiling nastily at them.

“Greetings. Welcome to the _Helatice_. I am Tolak. Please state your preferences and I will arrange your pleasures for you.”

The other members of Sulu’s group traded glances, but he stepped forward and stated, “I am Lieutenant Sulu. I prefer females with humanoid features.” He held his voice steady. If he looked like he didn’t want this, he would blow their cover.

Tolak nodded. “I have the perfect woman prepared for you. She is one of our most popular requests.” He waved forward another slave trader. “Please attend to the rest of this group. I will take the lieutenant to his pleasure.” The trader began to address the rest of Sulu’s group and a different trader stepped forward as the transporter pad activated and a new group arrived. Tolak turned to the door. “Follow me.”

Sulu hid a grimace as he stepped out into the grimy corridor. The ship didn’t look like it had ever been cleaned. Cleanliness probably wasn’t much of a priority to people like that though. All they seemed to care about was material items. The amount of dilithium that Kirk had to offer them to gain access to the ship was insane.

Tolak led him into a turbolift. They went up a few levels and exited into a corridor of doors. The room Tolak led him to was near the lift. “I believe you will find her to your liking. If you do not, let us know and we will locate a more appropriate pleasure for you.” Tolak opened the door and gestured Sulu inside. The room was nearly empty. A bed with no sheets, a table, and a chest were the only furniture in the room. A female slave lay prostrate on the bed. “If you wish for something to aid in your pleasure, the chest may contain what you need. This button will activate an intercom. Call if you need anything. We are happy to cater to our important clients’ needs.”

Sulu nodded. “Got it. I think I’ll be fine.”

At last Tolak left, and Sulu was able to pay attention to slave. He approached the bed slowly. Her eyes were open, but she seemed to be elsewhere. With a gentle hand, he reached out and touched her. “Miss?”

She blinked and focused on him. “You are Hikaru Sulu from the starship _Enterprise_.”

Creepy. “Uh… yeah.” How did she know that?

She sat up. “I would not expect to see you here. I was under the impression you were principled.”

Hey! “I’ve got principles. Lots of them! And I’m here to rescue you, not to… do whatever those other people do to you.” He looked her over. She was wearing a pair of plain white underwear and nothing else. Her hair was long enough to cover her chest, but it was so dirty and matted that it clumped and provided little in the way of covering. He returned his eyes to her face for her privacy and also because the sight of her ribs peeking through her skin was extremely disturbing. “How do you know who I am?” he asked before the conversation could go farther off track.

“I saw you in a friend’s mind.” She moved a hand up to her face and pulled her hair back behind a pointed ear.

“You’re Romulan?” he asked.

“I am Vulcan. My name is T’Plen.” She moved so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. “My telepathy is what gave me knowledge of you.”

That made sense, though Sulu wondered who their apparent mutual acquaintance was.

“I ask that you share your plan for escape with me,” T’Plen said. “I would like to go into this as prepared as possible.”

Sulu shook his head. This is not what he expected when he entered the room. On a whim, he shrugged off his overshirt and handed it to her. “Here. It’s really strange to talk to someone half-naked.”

She took the yellow shirt and pulled it on. It hung long and baggy on her thin frame. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He sat down on the bed next to her and began to outline the plan. “See, it goes like this…”

After he had explained the plan and how they had come to take part in it, Sulu started to tell her about the _Enterprise_. He was surprised when she asked him to tell her more about the destruction of Vulcan, explaining that she had been captured before Nero’s attack. He told her everything he knew and then told her about New Vulcan. He’d visited once, about a month before the _Enterprise_ had been labeled a renegade ship, and he’d found the planet nice, if not quite to his taste.

He was almost surprised when the beep announcing the beginning of their escape went off. They stood and made their way to the door. Sulu opened it and checked to see if anyone was outside. The hall was empty. He headed for the turbolift, T’Plen on his heels.

He pressed the call button and waited. He pulled out his phaser and kept it trained on the hallway. Doors started to open, but he held his fire. Other crew members stepped out of the rooms, slaves in tow. They grouped up at the turbolift with him, keeping their phasers out as well.

A security ensign tapped the turbolift button again. “No reponse.”

Sulu bit his lip. The lift must have been down for some reason. “Look for an access tube of some kind. We need to get down three levels.”

A science officer began to move away from the lift. “I saw a tube junction room back this way.”

The group followed her. The room was ten meters down the hall and had tubes leading every which way. Sulu headed for the tube that went downwards. “This should get us down there. Keep your phasers out and your eyes open. We don’t know how many of the traders are still moving about.”

T’Plen slid into the tube behind him and everyone else followed. It was a quick trip down, just over 15 meters. The tube entered the level in a junction room. Sulu exited the room. He recognized the hallway as the first one he entered outside the transporter room. He called behind him for everyone to keep coming, and then he headed for the transporter.

Inside the room, he found Spock and Teresa working the transporter. “The turbolifts are down,” he said as people filed in behind him.

Spock nodded once. “One of the slave traders locked down the system before the Captain and I could stop her. We were unable to return the system to working order. The ship’s self-destruct mechanism has also been initiated. We could not disable it, but we added some time to the countdown. We have one hour to get everyone off of the ship.”

Teresa waved to the slaves and crew members milling around. “Get up on the pad. We’ve got a steady lock between the two ships and can take ten people at a time. Please remain calm and orderly. We’ll get everyone out of here.”

Spock stepped away from the console. “I leave you in charge, Ensign. I must search for more survivors.”

Teresa nodded. “Aye, Commander.”

Spock left as the first group was beaming out. More people were entering the room now, muttering about turbolifts and service tubes. T’Plen stepped up onto the pad and was beamed away in the next group, leaving Sulu free to search for more slaves.

He moved closer to Teresa. “I thought you were supposed to be on the _Enterprise_.”

She sighed. “I was, but Terence chickened out. I was assigned in his place.”

Sulu squeezed her shoulder. They were dating now, and he wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t think it was appropriate with so many of their fellow crewmembers in the room. “Be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Teresa shook her head. “I’ve got the easy job. If I need to get out of here, all I have to do is step on the pad and call for a beam up. You’re the one that needs to be careful.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” He released her shoulder. “I’ve got to go.”

Teresa smiled. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Right.” Sulu looked around the room. There were people coming out of the wall through a service tube. He waited for a group to exit and then moved into the tube. Remembering as much as he could about the set-up of the ship from the blueprints the spy had sent, he headed forward for a while through two tube junctions. At the third tube junction, he changed directions and headed downwards. He counted levels as he went until he reached the level with the holding cells.

He opened the service hatch carefully and peeked outside. He had to slam the hatch shut a moment later to avoid a phaser blast. As soon as the hatch absorbed the last of the phaser impact, Sulu threw it open and fired his own phaser.

The slave trader hit the ground, a smoking wound through her chest. She was Andorian, so Sulu wasn’t sure if he’d hit her heart since he had no idea where Andorian hearts were, but she was definitely dead. He closed his eyes for a second, hating that he had to kill her, but knowing it was necessary to save so many other people. He climbed out of the tube, watching for other traders as he moved. In the corridor, he saw a number of doors. The first door he opened was to an empty holding room. He pulled the dead Andorian inside to cover his tracks in case a living trader decided to walk down the hall. He also pulled out his katana, wanting to be ready for any eventuality.

Then he started checking the other doors in the hall. Spock was in one room convincing the people there to come with him, and most of the other rooms were empty or already had an _Enterprise_ crew member working with the slaves in them. Finally, Sulu came to one of the smaller holding rooms. He opened the door and peered inside. There were at least thirty people in the room, all of them dirty and emaciated. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.

“I’m here on the order of the United Federation of Planets. You’re being saved.” None of the slaves moved, though some lifted their heads and looked at him. Sulu bit back his frustration and tried to convince them that they had to get out of their soon. “Come on, guys. We have to get to the transporter room before the ship self-destructs.”

One of the slaves, an apparently Human male climbed to his feet slowly. The other slaves followed his lead and began to stand up. Then the Human launched himself at Sulu.

Sulu staggered as the slave crashed into him. “Oh, Hikaru, I have missed you,” the slave said in a distinctly Russian accent.

“Pavel?” Sulu grabbed the slave’s shoulders and shoved him backwards so he could see his face. It was Chekov. His hair was long and so dirty it was forming dreadlocks. His cheeks and eyes were sunken in. He looked more dead than alive with his ribs sticking out of his chest and his arms hanging thin and gangly. But it was definitely Chekov.

Sulu fought revulsion. This was his friend, but he was dirty and nearly naked, dressed only in a pair of gray-with-dirt underwear. He smelled like urine and fecal matter, and his skin was encrusted with things Sulu didn’t even want to think of. He let go of Chekov, wanting to back away from what his mind was trying to tell him didn’t exist, except that it did and it was horrible.

Chekov smiled widely suddenly. “Hikaru!” He leaned forward and kissed Sulu.

Sulu had no idea what to make of it. Chekov had never kissed him before. Maybe it was conditioning from being in this place? Sulu held perfectly still, not even breathing so he wouldn’t have to smell Chekov, until Chekov released him and stepped back.

“What can I do to help?” Chekov asked.

Sulu had too many questions and not enough time. “What did you… What are you doing here?” He wanted to ask why Chekov had kissed him, why the slave traders had captured him, how long he had been on the ship, and everything else he could think of.

“No time!” Chekov shook his head and Sulu wanted to force him to explain, no matter how little time they had. “Tell me what I must do.”

Sulu cleared his throat. He had to get his head in gear. The Chekov-like slave had thrown him off in the simulation and cost him lives. He wasn’t about to let the real Chekov throw him off. “We’ve got to get to the transporter room. The turbolifts are shut down, so we’ll have to make our way there through the service tunnels.”

Chekov turned to the other slaves. “I served with this man before my capture. He tells the truth. Follow us.”

The slaves had all stood by then and they moved to the door slowly. Sulu could see from their movements that they were weak, and it struck him when he realized they moved the same way Chekov did. Chekov had been there long enough to become thin and weak, and no one on the _Enterprise_ had known. Sulu thought of the angry letters he had sent to Chekov, demanding that he talk to him. Chekov probably hadn’t gotten a single one of those letters.

Sulu braced himself and opened the door. He checked outside the room for any slave traders. There was no one there, so he ushered them outside. “We have to move as fast as we can. I’ll lead the way.” Sulu turned to Chekov. He was weak, but obviously determined. Sulu could trust him to help. “Can you follow behind and make sure everyone gets there?”

“I will do my best.”

“Alright.” He handed Chekov his phaser, in case they would need someone to protect their backs. “Be careful. We’re going to be going one hundred meters up and then seventy-five meters over.” He had paid careful attention to the turns he took in the service tubes. “We’ll come out in the transporter room itself. Everyone be ready to beam out as soon as you step on the pad.”

The slaves nodded and Sulu pulled open the entrance hatch to the service tube. “See you on the other side,” he said to Chekov.

Chekov smiled. “I look forward to it.”

Sulu climbed into the service tube and the other slaves followed. Chekov was the last person in the tube, and Sulu heard him close the hatch behind them. Sulu was already in the tube and moving upwards. He moved carefully, keeping his katana in front of him. It was his only weapon now if they were attacked.

Thankfully, they didn’t run into any trouble on the way through the tunnels, though there was a bit of a commotion at the end of the group. He couldn’t see what was going on, but he heard Chekov helping a slave keep going. Sulu was grateful when they moved into a horizontal tube and it became easier for the slaves to move.

At last they came to the transporter room. It was empty except for Teresa. She stood. “Oh, thank goodness you’re okay.”

Sulu moved aside so the slaves could come out of the tube. “I told you I’d be fine.” The slaves were milling about the room now, looking completely lost. “Alright everyone, I need you to take a spot on the transporter pad and we’ll beam you aboard the _Enterprise_.”

They slowly moved onto the pad as the rest of the group continued exiting the tubes. There was a gap near the end of the group, and Sulu waited with baited breath until he saw Chekov’s dirty head pop out of the hatch.

Sulu glanced at Teresa. “That’s everyone from this group.” He turned back to Chekov and the other slaves. “We’re transporting you in batches. As soon as the pad clears, take a spot and you’ll be sent to the _Enterprise_.”

Chekov was standing near the hatch, but he stepped closer to Sulu. “I can help more with the rescue. Tell me what to—”

Sulu cut Chekov off. He was in no condition to help. “Believe me, I’m glad for the offer, but I’ve never seen anyone who looked as awful as you do right now. Go to the _Enterprise_.” Chekov needed to get some medical attention as soon as possible.

“I can help!” Chekov frowned. “They did not show us much of the ship, but I know where all the holding rooms are.”

Sulu approached and grabbed Chekov’s arm. The transporter pad cleared of one group and the last few slaves stepped up onto it. Sulu pushed Chekov up with them. “We’ve got a spy onboard who sent us the blueprints to the ship. Everything’s under control.”

Chekov sighed. Reaching up, he brushed his fingers across Sulu’s cheek. His fingertips felt oddly soft on Sulu’s face. “I will go.”

Sulu stepped away quickly. “Good.” Chekov hadn’t been this touchy-feely before. He didn’t know what to make of this change. “They’re ready to be beamed, Teresa,” he said over his shoulder. Sulu stepped over to transporter console. “I’m going to go back out and look for any more survivors.”

Teresa entered the command that would beam the slaves away, then turned to Sulu. “Please, be careful.”

Sulu move closer and put a hand on her shoulder. There was no one in the room but them, the slaves, and Chekov. Chekov wouldn’t tattle if Sulu kissed her. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. “I’ll be fine. See you soon.”

Chekov’s group disappeared and they were alone. “See you soon,” Teresa agreed and Sulu headed back out into the ship to look for more slaves.

~*~

The medical team was waiting when the slaves—ex-slaves now that they were free—beamed onto the _Enterprise_. The slaves were stripped and ushered through makeshift sonic showers. Then their hair was shaved off to get rid of the lice. At the end of the line, they were given medical-issue pajamas to put on. Each then received a medical triage and any emergency medical treatment necessary.

Chekov went through the line without complaint. Once, the thought of being naked in front of so many of his fellow crewmembers would have shamed him, but he was too happy to be clean again to complain. One of the nurses recognized him and moved him to the front of the line for medical treatment. Chekov knew it wasn’t fair, but he was too tired to complain, so he made his way to sickbay. Doctor McCoy stared as Chekov hopped up on a biobed.

“Chekov? What… you were one of the slaves?”

Chekov nodded his head. “Thank you all for rescuing us.”

McCoy pulled out a tricorder and started running it over him. “How long were you on board?”

“I do not know.” McCoy looked up at Chekov. “I lost track after the seventh month, but I was kidnapped from San Francisco right after we arrived for shore leave.”

McCoy set aside his tricorder and grabbed a hypospray. “It was ten months then. Nearly a year.”

The news hit Chekov like a punch to the gut. “I am nineteen then.” He had turned eighteen three months before that shore leave. Almost a year of his life was gone, just like that. He knew it had been a long time, but knowing wasn’t the same as _knowing_.

McCoy injected him with a hypospray. “This is just a mix of nutrients. Your body’s malnourished. I’m also going to give you some pain meds—nothing too strong because I don’t want you fallin’ asleep on me—and some immunity boosters.” He gave Chekov three more injections, then drew some blood. “Now, it’s going to take a few days to run the blood tests and see if you picked up anything contagious, so try to keep your contact with others to a minimum until we know you’re clean.”

Chekov clasped his hands together in his lap. “I cannot touch anyone?”

“No, no. Casual touching is fine, but keep your hands clean and don’t kiss anyone or become intimate until we know whether you’ve got any diseases. Thankfully we’ve eradicated most STIs, but there’s always the odd chance that some alien race has done something to mess you up.”

“All right.” Chekov shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “And my physical injuries…?”

McCoy looked away. “I’ll use a dermal regenerator on what I can fix. You’re bruised and cut up, but your internal injuries aren’t too bad.” He snorted. “You’re real lucky kid. The slave traders were letting people get fucked to death in there. Bastards.”

Chekov knew he was lucky. He had seen the slaves with broken bones and ripped up insides. If a client was willing to pay enough, they could do anything they wanted—even cut you open and masturbate over the innards. One of the slaves in his primary holding room had watched that happen to another slave. The woman had never been the same again. She disappeared a few weeks after that, and Chekov had wondered if it was to keep her from talking about it to anyone else or because that customer had come back for another round.

McCoy was preparing the dermal regenerator when a sudden blast rocked the ship. The alarms blared and the red lights came on, signaling red alert. “Dammit,” the doctor cried.

The comm came on a moment later. “Doctor McCoy, we’ve got three injured in the transporter room.” Chekov didn’t recognize the voice that was speaking.

“Ensign Friedrich, is everyone back onboard?” McCoy growled, gathering up his supplies as he talked.

“Negative. We have twelve crewmembers unaccounted for, including the Captain. Transporters are down and we have lost communication with the other crew. Commander Scott is among the injured. You are currently the highest ranking officer on board.”

McCoy slammed a hypospray into his bag. “As if that matters. There’s someone on the bridge who knows what to do better than me. Let them know they are in control, and get someone to work on that transporter. I’ll be there in a second. McCoy ou—”

“But sir, there isn’t anyone who _can_ fix the transporter. The enemy ship is set to self-destruct in ten minutes. Their torpedo blew out our starboard nacelle. All of the engineers have been rerouted to fixing it to get us away from the explosion.” The voice was frantic.

“Goddamn ensigns. Why do they let them on this ship without any experience?” McCoy grabbed his bag and headed for the door. “I can’t do anything about it. Jim’s just gonna have to save himself from his end.” McCoy frowned and shook his head. “Figure out who’s in control at the bridge and update them. McCoy out.”

There wouldn’t be anyone on the bridge who could fix the transporter if all of engineering was working on the nacelle. The nacelle was more important—four hundred crewmembers lives were more valuable than twelve people’s. Chekov wasn’t fully trained in transporters, but he knew a lot about them. He had saved the Captain once with a transporter. He would do it again.

He was out of his biobed and down the hall before he realized what he was doing. He shoved people out of the way, ignoring the looks his pajamas got. His muscles no longer ached thanks to the pain medicine McCoy had given him, and he was probably overstressing them since he couldn’t feel the pain, but he moved as fast as he could.

He rounded the corner just as the turbolift was shutting behind McCoy. He slid inside before the door could close and collapsed against the wall, breathing hard.

“What are you doing?” McCoy snapped. “You’re gonna kill yourself running around like that!”

Chekov shook his head. “I can. Fix the. Transporter. Have to. Try.”

McCoy sighed. “If you kill yourself doing it, I’m not even going to try to revive you.”

Chekov grinned. “Of course, Doctor.”

Then the turbolift was opening and they were racing along the corridor. McCoy pulled ahead, unhindered by weak muscles, but Chekov wasn’t far behind. They entered the transporter room. McCoy headed for the three engineers splayed out on the floor, a science ensign hovering over them.

Chekov headed for the console. He ran through a rapid diagnostic and discovered the problem was two blown transporter coils. There were transporter coils in the storage compartment in the room. It would take mere minutes to fix the problem. Chekov was disgusted that not a single engineer wanted to spare five minutes to come fix it and save the captain.

A voice flickered on as Chekov grabbed the coils from storage. “Kirk to the _Enterprise_. This ship’s blown its power and life support is failing. Can you beam us up?”

Chekov took a deep breath and replied. “The transporters are down, but I will have them up in two minutes. Can you beam from their transporter room?”

“Negative. Only emergency power is left on the ship. Transporters, engines, and all cloaking and dampening devices are down.”

“Hold for beam up then.” Chekov pulled off the conduit cover and checked for the blown out coils. One was ruptured and the other had burnt up. Chekov turned off power to the conduit. He yanked the old out with a pair of pliers and shoved the new ones in their places. He locked them in and turned the power back on. He didn’t bother to waste time replacing the conduit cover. “The transporter should be clear for use now. Prepare for beam up.”

Kirk exhaled on the other end. “Good. Lock on to our signals and beam us aboard. There are five of us in the transporter room. I don’t know how many others are on the ship.”

Chekov pulled up the communicator signals. Five in the transporter room, four deep in the ships bowels, and three in what appeared to be the engine room. He tried to grab onto the five in the transporter room first, but the beam kept sliding off of them. Finally, he focused the beam on just the Captain and got a lock-on. The transporter malfunction was more expansive than it seemed. He’d have to beam them up one at a time.

He grabbed the Captain first, and then Commander Spock. Kirk had just stepped off the platform when Spock began to materialize and then Chekov began imputing the next transmitter signal for lock-on. Spock stepped off the pad and a woman appeared, the same woman Sulu had kissed. Chekov put that out of his mind and kept locking on. He cleared the transporter room and the ship’s lower decks and then moved on to the engine room.

Spock moved to his side and peered at the screen. “Two minutes until the ship detonates,” he observed. Chekov was thrown back to the moment when Spock’s mother’s signal slipped off the screen. He wasn’t going to lose these people.

The ship lurched suddenly and Chekov realized they had gotten the nacelle back on board. If they went into warp, he’d never get the last three crewmembers out. Frantically, he locked on to one of the signals. A woman phased on board and she was ushered off of the pad. The distance between the ships began to grow. Two signals hovered on the screen. One was a science officer, the other was Sulu.

Chekov couldn’t just choose one and forget the other. With the knowledge that he might lose both of them, Chekov tried to capture both signals. The signal on the right, Sulu, wouldn’t lock on. As a last chance, Chekov pulled up a diagnostic screen, noted a blown fuse that had not shown up previously due to the blown coils, and rerouted power past it. The transporter flipped into full power and Chekov caught both signals just in time to beam them aboard. Sulu materialized, an injured security ensign in his arms, just as the _Enterprise_ leapt into warp. A shock rocked the ship and Chekov realized the enemy ship had just exploded.

Chekov sunk into the seat at the console. He had done it. He’d saved them all.

Around him, people moved off, taking their places at the bridge or heading to sickbay for medical attention. McCoy finished the emergency treatment that the last ensign beamed aboard needed and then sent her off to sickbay with Sulu. Then McCoy turned to Chekov. “You did good. Now go get some sleep. The other victims are being housed in the cargo bays, but I’m pretty sure your old room is empty if you want it.”

Chekov closed his eyes in relief. “Thank you, sir.” He opened his eyes and found McCoy at the door.

“Thank you for saving them. Now go rest. I can fix the rest of your injuries tomorrow.” McCoy hurried off.

Chekov stood gingerly and took his time moving to his room. The door opened with his old code, giving him a moment of déjà vu. He had to look down at the medical-issue pajamas to convince himself that it had all really happened and that he wasn’t dreaming. He stepped inside his familiar room, breathing in the scent of home. The room still had the few things he had left behind in it, tucked away in his dresser. He pulled out the little trinkets from Russia and the picture of his parents and set them on his nightstand. Then he collapsed into bed.

He woke up hours later to the sound of his door chime. “Come in!” he called, triggering the unlock mechanism on the door.

Captain Kirk entered the room. “Ensign Chekov. I almost didn’t believe my eyes when I saw you in that transporter room.”

Chekov struggled to sit up in bed. “Keptin! Thank you for keeping my room. I have wanted to come back to the _Enterprise_ since I stepped off it in San Francisco. I am sorry I did not have a chance to tell anyone what happened.”

Kirk waved a hand at him. “Relax, kid. I never thought you had left us on purpose. We didn’t need the room, so I left it alone. I was hoping you’d come back one day.” Kirk plopped down onto the edge of the bed. “Listen, don’t tell anyone I told you this, but our new chief navigator is nowhere near as good as you.”

“I do not think you are supposed to tell me that.”

Kirk shrugged. “I’m only telling the truth. He never would have been able to handle that transporter like you did.”

“It was nothing. I had to save everyone. You all saved me.”

“And I’m glad we did. I want you to join the _Enterprise_ crew again. Everyone misses you and you’re a real asset to the ship.”

Chekov nodded quickly. “Da! I would be happy to join the crew!”

Kirk grinned and leaned over to clasp his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Chekov. I’m sorry we couldn’t save you sooner.” Kirk stood. “I’ll let Starfleet know where we found you and that we’re bringing you back on as our navigator.” Kirk shifted from one foot to the other. “You’ll have to file a report about what happened, but if you want to wait a while, I don’t think command will be too upset.”

“Thank you, Keptin.” Everything seemed a bit unreal now that Chekov was back on the Enterprise in his own room with his own things. It would be nice not have to explain everything that had happened to him right away.

“Go back to sleep now. Sulu’s on duty, but he told me to tell you he’d be in to check on you later.” Kirk walked to the door. “And thanks for saving me—again.”

Chekov settled back into the bed. “Goodbye, Keptin.”

“Goodnight, Lieutenant.” Kirk shot him a grin and left.

It took a moment for Chekov to realize what Kirk had said. Was it a mistake or…? He shot up out of bed and over to his room’s computer. Pulling up his personnel file, Chekov grinned at the screen. A field advancement on Stardate 2260.97 from ensign to lieutenant had been given by Captain James T. Kirk to former Ensign Pavel Andreyevich Chekov for an act of heroism that saved twelve lives.

Chekov, at nineteen years old, was a lieutenant. As far as he knew, he was the youngest lieutenant ever.

And, his mind thoughtfully pointed out, Sulu was no longer his superior. They could be in a relationship without breaking any rules. Not that he thought Sulu would want to be in a relationship with him. He was obviously dating that woman. But if they broke up…

Chekov shrugged off his thoughts. His life was returning to normal. He was back on the _Enterprise_ with Sulu, and he would never have to face the slave ship again. The things he imagined to stay sane were just fantasies. He needed to move on.

He crawled into bed, tired but mostly happy, and closed his eyes. Sulu would come visit him soon and he was a lieutenant now. Everything was getting better.

~*~

It was second nature for Sulu to get to Pavel’s room through their shared bathroom without asking permission to enter. He hesitated at Pavel’s door though, wondering if just entering the room would irritate Pavel. After all that time on the slave ship… he was probably grateful for his privacy.

Sulu knocked on the door.

“Sulu? Is that you?” Chekov’s voice was rough with sleep. Sulu must have woken him up.

“Yeah. Can I come in?” Sulu let his hand hover over the door’s button.

Chekov yawned loud enough for Sulu to hear him. “Yes, come in.”

Sulu opened the door. Chekov was sitting up in bed and smiling towards him. He hardly recognized his friend. Chekov was clean now, but his hair was gone, shaved off, and he wore a pair of small medical-issue pajamas. He looked frail and child-like, as if he were a toddler who had been confined to bed by a sickness.

Sulu wished he had just been sick. It was easier to face illness than the reality of what Chekov had been through.

Chekov swung his legs over the side of the bed and grimaced.

“Are you okay?” Sulu hurried to Chekov’s side, in case he needed some help.

Chekov shook his head. “I am fine. I just overtaxed myself running to the transporter room.”

Transporter room? “You mean when we were crawling through the slave ship?” Sulu took a seat on the bed next to Chekov.

Chekov’s face dimmed a little. “No, here on the _Enterprise_. I was the one to get the last people off of… that ship. You did not see me in the room?”

All Sulu could remember was the frustration that he couldn’t help his injured crewmember and the tense expectation that he would be blown to bits when the ship self-destructed. “No. I was a little distracted.” Nothing captured one’s full attention like the imminent threat of death. “I guess I have to thank you for saving my butt with a transporter again, huh?”

“Yes!” Chekov grinned widely. “And I saved the Keptin and Commander Spock—” Chekov frowned “— and that woman you kissed.”

Teresa was on the ship when it was about to blow up? Shit. He’d barely gotten to know her, and he could have lost her! He wanted to go check on her and see if she was okay, but he needed to make sure Chekov was alright first. He had acted so strange on the slave ship… but he seemed okay now. “You’re a real hero then,” Sulu teased.

Chekov ducked his head, and Sulu was amused to see him blush all the way to the top of his bald head. “It was nothing. Anyone with engineering knowledge could have fixed the problem. I was just there.”

Sulu slugged him in the shoulder. “Of course it was something! You deserve a Medal of Commendation for that!”

“I do not think I will get a medal, but the Keptin did give me a field advancement.” Chekov looked up, his face still a little red. “I am a lieutenant now, like you!”

“Congratulations!” Without thinking, Sulu threw his arms around Chekov. At the last minute, he realized that Chekov might take it the wrong way. There was no telling what had been expected of him on that ship. Sulu was already in the midst of the hug though and he couldn’t back out.

Thankfully, Chekov just hugged him back. He leaned his head on Sulu’s shoulder, and Sulu awkwardly patted him on the back. Sulu wasn’t great with emotions at the best of times, and he really didn’t know how to react to Chekov now.

“I missed you,” Chekov murmured into Sulu’s neck.

Sulu ran a hand over Chekov’s bald head. The tiniest bit of stubble prickled his fingers. “I missed you too.” Sulu remembered how much he had missed Chekov. “When you open up your Starfleet communications account, just delete all the messages I sent, okay?”

Chekov pulled away and Sulu let his arms fall. “You sent me messages?”

Sulu shrugged. “For the first few weeks, I think I sent one almost every day. I thought you were avoiding me. Then I got angry when you didn’t reply… and you don’t want to read those messages. Believe me. But I still kept sending messages till a couple months ago.”

“What happened a couple months ago?”

“We got assigned to the rescue mission and Starfleet labeled us renegades, so I couldn’t send anymore.” Sulu turned his head away. He couldn’t look at Chekov and admit this. “And… I gave up. I figured you hated me.”

Chekov sucked in a breath. “Nyet!”

Sulu was startled when Chekov’s hand came up to caress his cheek. “Pavel?”

Chekov leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Sulu’s face. “I could never hate you, Hikaru.” And then he kissed Sulu again.

Sulu pushed him back gently. “Pavel, you don’t have to do this.” That ship had screwed Chekov up. What had they done to him to make him feel like he had to do this?

Chekov leaned forward again. “But I want to kiss you.”

Sulu stood and moved away from the bed. “But I don’t want you to do it. I’m not like those people that used you! I don’t want sex or… or whatever.”

“Oh.” Chekov shrunk back into himself. “I am sorry. I will not do it again.”

Shit. Now Sulu had upset him. “Listen, Chekov—” Chekov flinched “—I don’t know what you went through on that ship, what they made you do. But you don’t have to do things like that now. You’re safe here.”

Chekov nodded slowly. “Da. Okay. I will not do it again.”

Sulu sat down next to him again. “You’re among friends now. Just forget everything about that ship, alright?”

“Yes. Friends. Friends are good.” Chekov sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Sulu’s chest ached. What he must have gone through… “You need to rest now. You still look awful. When you’re feeling better, let me know and we can run a simulation. I’ll even let you pick one of your favorite historical ones.”

Chekov blinked rapidly. “I will sleep. If I get better quickly, perhaps I can return to the bridge and navigate for you.”

Sulu gave him a gentle smack on the back. “Sounds great. The guy who took your place sucks.”

Chekov laughed. “I will come save you from him then.”

“Good. Night, Pavel!” Sulu stood and headed for their bathroom.

“Goodnight, Hikaru,” Chekov called after him.

Sulu slipped back into his own room and then out into the corridor. He needed to go check on Teresa and see for himself if she was okay. She never should have been on that ship; if she wasn’t okay, Sulu was going to hunt down Terence and beat him up for chickening out and getting Teresa sent in his place.


	3. Chapter 3

Chekov woke up when someone knocked on his bathroom door. The only person who ever visited Chekov through the bathroom was Sulu. He had never knocked before though. “Sulu? Is that you?”

“Yeah. Can I come in?” Sulu called through the door.

Chekov tried to reply, but a big yawn cut him off. When he had finish yawning, he hollered back, “Yes, come in.” He was surprised Sulu had bothered to ask. He knew he was allowed to come in if the door wasn’t locked. He sat up as the door opened. As Sulu entered the room, Chekov tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Pain shot through them. He clenched his fists and help back the curse he wanted to scream. He had been hurt worse before. His muscles were just protesting all the running he had done.

“Are you okay?” Sulu stood at the side of the bed, peering down at Chekov anxiously.

Chekov shook his head. “I am fine. I just overtaxed myself running to the transporter room.”

“You mean when we were crawling through the slave ship?” Sulu took a seat on the bed next to Chekov.

Hadn’t Sulu seen him in the transporter room? He’d been so happy that he saved Sulu… “No, here on the _Enterprise_. I was the one to get the last people off of… that ship. You did not see me in the room?”

“No. I was a little distracted.” Sulu shrugged. “I guess I have to thank you for saving my butt with a transporter again, huh?”

“Yes!” Chekov had saved Sulu and everyone. He knew it was bragging, but he had to tell Sulu about it. He wanted Sulu to be proud of him. “And I saved the Keptin and Commander Spock—” Chekov fumbled over the next person “— and that woman you kissed.” Chekov had almost forgotten about her. He didn’t want to think of her at all.

Sulu looked a bit shocked, but then he nodded. “You’re a real hero then,” Sulu teased.

Chekov ducked his head. Sulu sounded like he was proud. Chekov wanted to burst open from happiness. “It was nothing. Anyone with engineering knowledge could have fixed the problem.”

Sulu punched him in the shoulder. “Of course it was something! You deserve a Medal of Commendation for that!”

“I do not think I will get a medal, but the Keptin did give me a field advancement.” Chekov looked up to catch Sulu’s eye. “I am a lieutenant now, like you!” Would he be proud? Would he think of what Chekov thought of when he realized they were the same rank?

“Congratulations!” Sulu hugged Chekov tightly.

He was proud. And he was hugging Chekov. Did he want what Chekov wanted? Did he think they could be together now?

“I missed you.” Chekov took a deep breath, breathing in the soil-scent of Sulu. He hugged Sulu hard, never wanting to let go.

Sulu ran a hand over Chekov’s head. It felt strange since his hair was gone. “I missed you too. When you open up your Starfleet communications account, just delete all the messages I sent, okay?”

Chekov looked up at Sulu, pulling back until Sulu released him. “You sent me messages?” Sulu had thought about him!

Sulu shrugged. “For the first few weeks, I think I sent one almost every day. I thought you were avoiding me. Then I got angry when you didn’t reply… and you don’t want to read those messages. Believe me.”

Chekov would read every message in his inbox. Sulu had thought about him every day for weeks. Surely that meant he liked Chekov?

“But I still kept sending messages till a couple months ago.”

“What happened a couple months ago?” No one had mentioned anything specific happening then. Had Sulu gotten hurt?

“We got assigned to the rescue mission and Starfleet labeled us renegades, so I couldn’t send any more.” Sulu turned his head away. “And… I gave up. I figured you hated me.”

“Nyet!” How could Sulu think anyone would hate him? Chekov reached out and brushed his fingers along Sulu’s cheek. He had shaved, and the skin was smooth. Chekov gently turned Sulu’s head to make him look at him.

Sulu blinked at him. “Pavel?”

Chekov leaned forward, watching Sulu’s face. “I could never hate you, Hikaru.” Never. He loved Sulu too much. And maybe, just maybe, Sulu liked him too. He wasn’t pulling away. So Chekov kissed Sulu again, watching to see what he would do.

Sulu shoved him away. “Pavel, you don’t have to do this.” He frowned harshly.

Chekov hadn’t done it because he thought he had to. He did it because he wanted to. He leaned forward again, trying to explain. “But I want to kiss you.”

Sulu jumped away from him. “But I don’t want you to do it. I’m not like those people that used you! I don’t want sex or… or whatever.”

“Oh.” Sulu did not want him. Because of what had happened to him. Never, not in a single one of his imaginings, had he thought that Sulu would reject him because of that. Surely Sulu knew Chekov hadn’t done it on purpose? He didn’t want them to touch him, and he tried to stop it! It didn’t matter to Sulu though. And it only made sense. Chekov had been sullied by too many people. “I am sorry. I will not do it again.”

“Listen, Chekov—” He wouldn’t even use ‘Pavel’ now? Chekov’s chest squeezed tight. “—I don’t know what you went through on that ship, what they made you do. But you don’t have to do things like that now. You’re safe here.”

Chekov nodded slowly. “Da. Okay. I will not do it again.” Why did Sulu have to keep talking about it? He thought Chekov was disgusting. That was clear.

Sulu sat down next to him again. “You’re among friends now. Just forget everything about that ship, alright?”

“Yes. Friends.” Chekov didn’t want to be friends. But he would take what he could get. “Friends are good.”

“You need to rest now. You still look awful.”

Chekov didn’t want to sleep. He wanted Sulu to go away. He didn’t need to be told he looked awful. He was bald and emaciated and disgusting. His skin crawled, even though he knew it was still clean from the sonic shower.

“When you’re feeling better, let me know and we can run a simulation. I’ll even let you pick one of your favorite historical ones.”

Chekov felt tears welling up in his eyes and he blinked rapidly to clear them. It would be like the date he had imagined, but it wouldn’t be a date because Sulu didn’t want him. “I will sleep.” Go away, he wanted to say. “If I get better quickly, perhaps I can return to the bridge and navigate for you.” He would be a friend. He would act like he used to, and maybe Sulu wouldn’t be too disgusted by him.

Sulu patted him on the back. “Sounds great. The guy who took your place sucks.”

Chekov tried to laugh, remembering that the Captain had said the same thing. His laughter sounded pathetic to him, but Sulu didn’t seem to notice. “I will come save you from him then,” Chekov joked.

Sulu didn’t laugh. “Goodnight, Pavel.” Sulu stood.

At least he was using Chekov’s first name again. “Goodnight, Hikaru,” Chekov called as Sulu walked into their bathroom. Sulu didn’t even turn around to look at him.

Chekov laid back in bed and pulled the covers over his head. He had known for so long that his imaginings were just that—imaginary. But he had fallen in love with Sulu in his fantasies. Sulu had loved him back. Chekov had always hoped that Sulu would come save him and then show him what love was like and what sex with someone you loved could be.

But this was real life. Chekov needed to move on. He needed to grow up.

He shoved the covers off his head and stumbled out of bed. He rummaged through the closet, finding his uniform tucked away in the corner. He tugged on the uniform even though it was too big. Every muscle in his body ached as he moved, but he kept himself going with the thought that he could move beyond this. He had to, if he wanted to keep Sulu as a friend. There was no doubt in Chekov’s mind that Sulu would be uncomfortable if he knew how much Chekov loved him. So all Chekov would have to do was fall out of love with him, and then they could be friends again.

Chekov left his room and headed for Sickbay. He needed to finish his medical treatments, and then he could go back on duty and be with Sulu on the bridge, sharing a console and being friends. It would be good. It would be.

~*~

Sulu and Teresa walked out of the mess hall together. “What’s your boyfriend doing with Travis Roemer?” Teresa whispered.

“Don’t call him that!” Sulu glanced around. No one seemed to have heard her. “And I don’t know why he’s with Roemer.” He examined Chekov and Roemer. Chekov was walking very close to the brawny science ensign. Were they friends? Roemer wasn’t exactly a nice person, though he was a great scientist. Sulu hoped Chekov knew what he was getting into.

Teresa giggled and clasped his hand. “You’re so jumpy! Does it really bother you that much when I tease you?”

“No, I’m okay with you teasing me. Just… don’t bring Chekov into it, okay?”

“His crush on you is so obvious. It’s adorable how he follows you around like a puppy.” Teresa smiled. “It’s a good thing I got you first, or you’d definitely have fallen for him by now.”

Sulu didn’t understand women. “You sound almost happy about that.”

“Not happy… just… it’s romantic, in a doomed way. Man saves boy, boy falls for man, man cannot return boy’s love.” Teresa sighed happily. “It’s kind of epic.”

Sulu grabbed Teresa’s arm and yanked her down a different corridor. He did not want to be having this conversation where Chekov might hear. “It’s not like that. He’s just been through a lot lately, and he wants to be around familiar people.”

Teresa put a hand on her hip. “Oh, really? And you’re… familiar with him?”

“I’m his best friend!” Or at least, he had been Chekov’s best friend. He’d known everything about Chekov, up until all the happened. Now he didn’t know how to treat him or what Chekov expected of him.

Teresa’s attitude softened. “I’m sorry.” She leaned over and gave him a hug. “I know you two are close, but I also know he thinks of you as more than a friend. I have eyes; I can see.”

Sulu wanted to protest, but Teresa was right. He knew Chekov liked him. Chekov hadn’t tried to kiss him again, but he spent as much time as possible with Sulu. They’d spent almost every night of the past month together, playing simulations or watching old movies. In fact, Sulu had kind of been ignoring Teresa.

“I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve been ignoring you.”

“It’s fine. Chekov’s been through a lot. I understand that you want to help him.” Teresa hugged him tighter. “Just… don’t forget about me completely, okay?”

“I won’t.” Teresa really was too sweet. “And there’s no chance I’ll fall for Chekov. I’m straight, remember?” He grinned at her and poked her in the ribs. “See Exhibit A: girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know, the word bisexual exists for a reason.”

“I’ve got no reason for it to exist because I’ve got you.”

Her kiss was full of laughter. “God, you are so cheesy. I love you.”

Sulu kissed her back, but he didn’t reply. Teresa had proclaimed her love for him before, but he wasn’t comfortable saying anything back. They hadn’t even been dating two months. Sulu didn’t believe in love at first sight. He’d rather fall in love with an old friend, one who he knew everything about and who knew everything about him. He liked Teresa, a lot, and he thought it could grow into love, but he didn’t even know her parents’ names or if she had any siblings.

Teresa pulled away from the kiss first. “I’ve got to go,” she said, “but I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner, right?”

Sulu nodded. With her working Gamma shift and him on Alpha, the only time they could get together was around dinner. “Try not to break the ship tonight!”

She punched him lightly in the gut. “That wasn’t my fault! I only took the warp core offline once, and I was totally following Scotty’s directions.”

“Sure, sure, that’s what you say.” He kissed her once more. “Go play with your tools.”

She laughed and tugged herself out of Sulu’s embrace. “Oh, shut up. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Bye!” Sulu called as she raced to Engineering. He headed for the turbolift. Gamma shift meant bedtime, and he was exhausted. The lift took a while to respond, but Sulu had expected that. The lifts were always slow right at shift changes with people rushing to and from their stations.

At last, the lift showed up and Sulu hopped on and headed for the junior officer quarters. His room was near the far end of the corridor outside the lift, and he set off for it quickly. His bed was calling him.

To his surprise, Chekov’s door opened as Sulu passed by and Roemer stepped out. His clothes were wrinkled, and his face flushed. His hair was a mess, and he paused to run his fingers through the sweaty brown strands and messed it up even worse. “That was fun,” Roemer called into the room. “I’ve got to be on deck soon, but message me if you want to do that again.”

Sulu stepped up to the key pad on his door and tried to enter his code, but his fingers fumbled over the numbers. Roemer looked as if he had just had sex. And he was leaving Chekov’s room, saying things that implied that they had sex. Chekov wasn’t ready for sex though! It had barely been a month since Sulu rescued him.

Chekov’s voice came out of his room. “I had fun too. Goodnight, Roemer.”

“Night, Chekov.” Roemer walked away, and Chekov’s door closed.

Sulu took a deep breath and tried to relax. He had probably misunderstood. It hadn’t been very long since he had seen Chekov and Roemer heading this way. Surely there hadn’t been enough time for them to have sex. They had probably gone for a quick run together or something. He imputed his key code again, and the door slid open.

Inside, he headed straight for the bathroom and over to Chekov’s room. He hesitated at the door, then pressed the button to open it. It slid open, not locked, and Sulu breathed a sigh of relief. If they had been doing anything, Chekov would have locked the door, right?

He stepped into the room and Chekov sat up in bed, clutching a blanket to his chest. The sight felt like a punch to Sulu’s gut. Chekov’s hair wasn’t a mess because it was still too short to actually move, but his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glittering. Sulu stepped backwards, away from the knowledge of what had happened, and bumped into the bathroom door, which had closed behind him.

Chekov blushed harder. “Sulu! I, um, I should have locked the bathroom…”

“What were you doing with Roemer?” The question was out before Sulu could censor himself.

Chekov looked down at his lap. “You cannot guess?”

“You had sex.” And Chekov didn’t want to admit it. Had he… had he not wanted to have sex with Roemer? Sulu felt hot. Had Chekov been coerced into doing something? Roemer wasn’t exactly high class; he might not have listened if Chekov told him no. “Did you want to have sex?”

“Yes?” Chekov fiddled with his blanket.

Sulu’s heart thudded to a stop. “Oh, Pavel, he didn’t force you, did he?” He moved a little closer to Chekov. “You don’t have to have sex with anyone anymore, and no one can make you. You know that, right?”

Chekov frowned at him. “He did not force me. I just wanted to remember what real sex was like, and he had offered. I thought it was time to move on.”

“But you made that decision on your own, right? He didn’t try to coerce you?”

Chekov fiddled with his blanket again, then sighed. “I do not want to talk to you naked. Please leave until I can get dressed.”

Sulu spun around and opened the bathroom door. “I’ll be in my room.” He hurried through the bathroom. In his room, he sat down on the edge of his bed, trying not to think of the fact that Chekov had been naked. He shouldn’t have barged in like that. Chekov deserved privacy, now more than ever. And Sulu had no right to be embarrassed. It was his own fault for rushing in there.

He clasped his hands and stared down at them. Chekov had really wanted to have sex? After everything that had happened to him, how could he want sex? Sulu thought he would be scarred for life, not gearing up for more.

Or _had_ Chekov been scarred for life? Did he feel a need to have sex? Sulu didn’t know enough about psychology to even guess.

Sulu looked up when Chekov entered the room in his pajamas. Chekov pulled a chair over to the bed and turned it around so he could sit and rest his chin on the back.

“Are you upset?” Chekov asked quietly.

Sulu shook his head. “Not if you are doing this for the right reasons. If he pressured you into—”

“He didn’t.”

“—and as long as you want this because you like him and not because you feel like you have to do it because of what happened to you.” Sulu leaned forward to ruffle Chekov’s short hair.

Chekov nodded. “I do like him. He is nice, and it is nice to have sex because you want to.” Chekov stuck his chin out. “I am not going to stop because you do not like it. You have no right to tell me what to do.”

“I just want to protect you.” Sometimes Chekov seemed so childlike, even though Sulu knew he wasn’t at all innocent. It was hard to treat him like an adult.

“I do not need protection here. I can choose my partners and if they hurt me, I can tell someone and they will be taken away.” Chekov smiled sadly. “It is a freedom, one I never thought of until I lost it.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to be getting involved with Roemer though?” Sulu wasn’t convinced that having sex had been all Chekov’s idea.

Chekov shrugged. “I am not dating him. I want to be with many people, to remember what it is like to be treated kindly.” He wouldn’t meet Sulu’s gaze. “On the ship, I kept myself sane by imagining what it would be like to be with someone who loved me. My fantasies were my life for a long time. And they are still fantasies, no matter how much I want them to be real. So I am trying to forget them and find something in real life that will make me that happy.”

“That seems healthy.” It seemed infinitely healthier than his latching on to Sulu. Maybe Chekov knew what he was doing. He was trying to move on. Sulu didn’t like how he was choosing to do that, but it wasn’t his decision to make.

“I think it is,” Chekov said. “I will move on. It will be good.”

“Okay.” Sulu glanced at the clock. “I think it’s time for us to go to bed now.”

Chekov wrinkled his nose. “I do not like sleeping alone.” His eyes widened and he flung his hands in the air. “I mean, just sleeping, not doing anything else!”

“I got what you meant. How come?”

Chekov laid his arms on the back of the chair and put his chin on top of them. “My mother and father were both very close as children. They were neighbors, and my father’s parents were in Starfleet, so when they went away on missions, my mother’s family would watch my father. When my parents were young, they would often sleep together. They stopped when they got older.”

“Of course.” Most parents wouldn’t let their kids sleep with someone of the opposite gender past early elementary school.

Chekov smiled softly. “They grew up and fell in love though. And my mother, she asked my father out on a date. After the date, they didn’t want to be apart, so my father invited my mother over—just to sleep in the same bed together, like when they were little.”

They were best friends who fell in love. That was the kind of relationship Sulu wanted, one that he hoped was growing between him and Teresa. The idea of sharing a bed just to be near the one you liked and not for sex was terribly romantic—and Sulu really was a romantic at heart, though he’d never admit it to anyone.

Chekov’s smile grew sadder. “They thought that sleeping in the same room was a way of showing love, so they kept me in their room when I was little. I moved into my own room when I was about five, but whenever I was sick or scared, my mother would bundle me up into a cot in their room. Then my father died when I was ten.”

Sulu had already known that, so he just nodded his head.

“My mother was so sad, I would go sleep on the floor next to her bed to keep her company on the nights I heard her crying.” Chekov shrugged his shoulders. “Even after I left for Starfleet, I thought of sleeping near someone as a way to show you loved them. It is a strange tradition.”

Sulu nodded, but he wasn’t paying much attention to Chekov’s words anymore. Instead, he was trying to figure out if inviting Chekov to sleep over would lead to the wrong impression. He kind of thought it would. But they did share a bathroom…

“If you want, you can leave the doors open in the bathroom. It’s wouldn’t be quite like being in the same room, but you wouldn’t be totally alone.” It wasn’t a huge gesture, but Sulu didn’t want Chekov to think he loved him romantically. He couldn’t let him sleep alone after hearing that story though.

Chekov’s whole face lit up. “Really? You would not mind?”

“Nah.” Sulu stood up. “Just lemme get my shower and get ready for bed.”

Chekov stood up and put the chair back where it belonged. “Thank you, Hikaru.”

Sulu shrugged. “No problem.”

Chekov went back to his room and Sulu grabbed his pajamas. He took a quick sonic shower and used his sonic toothbrush. Then he opened the door to Chekov’s room.

The poor kid was asleep on top of his sheets. Sulu tiptoed into the room and over to the bed. He tugged the covers out from under Chekov and then pulled them over him. Chekov sighed and smiled. “Ya tebya lyublyu.”

Did Sulu wake him up? “What?”

“…love…”

He must have been dreaming about his parents. Sulu reached out and ran his hands over Chekov’s hair. Poor kid had been through so much.

“Goodnight, Pavel.”

“…love you…”

Sulu chuckled and went back through the bathroom, leaving the doors open and turning out the light. He climbed into his own bed. He could hear Chekov in his room, mumbling sleepily. It was kind of nice.

~*~

Ensign Folsom leaned over Chekov’s shoulder, his beard tickling Chekov’s ear. “I was wondering if you might like to spend some… private time together this evening.”

Chekov ducked his head. Did he have to ask in the middle of the mess? “Yes. Come to my room at 2100 hours.”

Folsom leered at Chekov, scanning his body from top to bottom. “I’ll see you then.” He walked away without waiting for a response.

Sulu huffed across the table. “It’s like he thinks you’re a piece of meat.” He leaned forward, narrowly avoiding putting his elbow in his lunch. “What makes you want to date a guy like that?”

Chekov didn’t _want_ to date them. He wanted to date Sulu, or at least someone who’d see him as a person and not a sex toy. But no respectable man had any interest in someone who’d been used and abused like Chekov. “Folsom is not so bad in private.” Actually, he was worse. Chekov couldn’t tell Sulu that though. He needed to find someone to move on with, and if Folsom was the only man who’d have him, then Chekov was stuck.

Sulu pursed his lips disapprovingly. “Well, I don’t like him, and I don’t like the way he treats you.”

Then why didn’t he do something about it? Chekov would drop every man he’d been with in an instant for Sulu. All Sulu had to do was ask him out. But he wouldn’t. And even if Folsom did things Chekov didn’t like, such as using toys in the bedroom, he still paid Chekov attention. When they weren’t having sex, Folsom was interesting to talk to. It wasn’t such a bad relationship, and it seemed to be a relationship at this point, since Folsom had spent the night in Chekov’s room every evening for the past week. Chekov wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Sulu’s hand smacked the tabletop, startling Chekov out of his thoughts. “Aren’t you going to explain why you’re letting such douche-bags into your bed?”

“Sorry. I was thinking.” Chekov focused back on the conversation. “And Folsom isn’t a douche-bag. He is a very intelligent science officer.”

“You can be smart and still be a douche,” Sulu mumbled.

“You are proving that right now.” Sulu had no right to tell Chekov what to do. They were friends and only friends. Chekov could make his own decisions.

Sulu frowned at him. “How can you say that? I just want you to be careful. I care about you, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Chekov softened despite himself. It was sweet that Sulu cared. Chekov just wished he cared _more_. He was such an idiot for falling in love with his straight best friend. He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Sulu was a good friend. Chekov couldn’t lose him. He opened his eyes. “I should not have said that. Please do not be angry.”

Sulu gestured as if to wave Chekov’s concerns away. “I’m not angry. I just hate watching you self-destruct. Please be careful.”

“I will be.” Chekov stood and grabbed his tray. He didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. “I am going back to the bridge to see if I can fix our console. I think there is a data streaming problem.”

Sulu grinned. “You always have been good about keeping things fixed. Alright, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Chekov left, shoving his tray in the receptacle as he passed. The only senior officer on the bridge when Chekov arrived was Spock. He got clearance to fix the problem from the Commander and set to work, anxious to finish before his relief left and he had to take over the console.

The problem involved a few twisted wires underneath the console. One wire had split almost completely, and data was traveling through it in spurts instead of a constant stream. Chekov sliced the wire in half and cut off the damaged part before soldering it back together. It took no time at all. He finished the project with five minutes left to his lunch period, but he released the Ensign navigating the ship and took over. There was very little going on. En route to Earth to turn over the ex-slaves and regain their place in Starfleet, the course was already entered and there were no changes necessary to avoid collisions at that moment.

Chekov had always been bored by these kinds of shifts. Before his capture, he had taken to bringing some extra work with him to stay busy. Scotty was always ready to work on the theory of transwarp, so Chekov used to spend the time working on that. Or sometimes he had been brought in on one of the science department’s experiments and had used the time to finish his part of the project.

And his favorite way to spend the time had been doing things for Sulu. Chekov glanced over at Sulu’s half of the console. Sulu was incredibly tough on electronics. He was a little rough-and-tumble and he never seemed to realize that machines were just as delicate and intricate as his plants. So Chekov did what he could to keep Sulu’s machines from falling apart. Sulu had left his personal PADD on his side of the console, and Chekov grabbed it.

Sure enough, it wasn’t working right. Chekov ran a diagnostics on it and found multiple hardware and software malfunctions. He fixed the hardware problems first, prying open the back cover and realigning the circuit board. The fan was also caked in dust, so Chekov cleaned it off to keep it from overheating.

Sulu came in while Chekov was working. He took over piloting and acclimated himself to what was happening. Chekov watched him adjust things to keep them on course. Once he was situated, he took notice of Chekov. “What are you doing with my PADD?”

Chekov held up the ball of dust he’d cleaned from the machine. “Did you take care of this at all while I was gone?”

Sulu grinned sheepishly. “Uh… nope?”

Chekov hadn’t thought so. “I have fixed the hardware problems. It will take me a few minutes to deal with what you have done to the poor software, but then it will work good as new.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Break all of your electronics.” Chekov put the PADD back together and fired it up. Already it was moving faster than it had been. He had to completely reboot a couple programs after backing up the data, but soon enough he was done. “Here.”

Sulu looked up from his work with a smile. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Chekov took a minute to make sure everything was still going as it should. The ship was on course and moving along swiftly. Now Chekov had nothing to do. “I’m bored. Do you have anything else I need to fix?”

“Uh…” Sulu looked away. “Maybe?” He leaned over and opened a compartment in the console. There were at least ten PADDs inside. Sulu glanced over his shoulder at Spock and leaned closer to whisper. “I’ve been hiding them until I could get someone to fix them.”

“You could have easily filled out repair requests within the computer system, Lieutenant.” Spock nodded at them from the science console. “I assume you remember how to do so?”

Sulu leaned forward until his head hit the console. “Yes, Commander,” he mumbled.

Chekov had to bite back a giggle, of all things. “Do not worry, I will take care of them.”

Sulu didn’t lift his head. “Thanks, Pavel. Sorry to make you fix them.”

“It is not a problem. I like fixing them for you.” And Chekov really did. It made him happy when he could do little things for Sulu.

Alpha shift finished quickly then. Chekov didn’t manage to fix all of the PADDs, but he didn’t mind—they would keep him busy the next day too. When their relief arrived, Chekov followed Sulu into the turbolift. “Can we have dinner together?” he asked when the doors closed.

Sulu shook his head. “I promised Teresa I’d have dinner with her tonight. Sorry.”

Teresa. Chekov knew it was childish, but he didn’t like her at all. She was the only one Sulu spent time with anymore. But she was his girlfriend. It was natural. Chekov pressed a button to reroute the lift. “That is okay. I am tired; I think I will take a nap.”

Sulu’s lips tightened. “That’s probably a good idea since you’re going to see Folsom later.”

“Yes, a very good idea.” Chekov had completely forgotten about Folsom. Ugh. He did not want to deal with Folsom tonight, but he had already said yes.

The lift stopped to let Chekov off. Sulu waved a little as Chekov stepped out of the lift. “Night, Pavel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chekov moved away from the lift doors and turned back to look at Sulu. “Goodnight, Hikaru.” The lift doors closed, hiding Sulu. The turbolift whirred and carried Sulu off to meet his girlfriend.

Chekov turned around and ran away from the lift. A month and a half he had been free. A month and a half he had spent with Sulu. But it wasn’t enough. Chekov had built his fantasies on his memory of Sulu, imagining that Sulu loved him or would come to love him. Every time he saw Sulu, Chekov felt like Sulu should be in love with him. It was stupid and insane and so completely messed up.

Chekov needed to get his head checked. Maybe the malnourishment had caused brain damage. Obviously something was wrong in his head if he thought that Sulu would ever love him back. It was obvious that Sulu really liked Teresa, probably even loved her. Chekov knew this, but his heart didn’t want to believe it.

Chekov halted in front of his room and keyed in his code. The door slid open, and Chekov flung himself inside and onto the bed. His chest ached, the breathlessness of running and the pain of heartbreak combining and suffocating him.

It wasn’t fair! Chekov loved Sulu first! He knew Sulu better, knew everything about him. He knew about Sulu’s first girlfriend and the first time he had sex. He knew how much Sulu loved his parents and how much he disliked his older sister, though he loved her too. Chekov knew that Sulu always fell asleep on his side and woke on his stomach, that his favorite old movie was a romance from the late twenty-first century, and that he loved dogs almost as much as he loved plants, but he had never gotten a dog because he didn’t want his plants to get eaten.

It wasn’t fair. Chekov pushed his face into his pillow and screamed until his throat felt dry and ripped up.

His voice used up, Chekov rolled over onto his back, panting. His face was hot, and when he reached up to touch it, he found tears he hadn’t realized he cried.

He closed his eyes and covered them with an arm. It just wasn’t fair. Chekov wished for a minute that he was a girl. He would have a chance then. But maybe even as a girl, Sulu would not love him. Chekov thought that would hurt worse than Sulu simply not liking men.

Chekov felt a little calmer now. His breath came slower. Each gulp of air sent pain skittering across the nerves in his throat. Chekov tried to breathe through his nose, noting that it didn’t hurt as bad that way. He focused on just breathing in and out, in and out, in and out…

A knock at the door startled Chekov out of the sleep he hadn’t realized he had fallen into. A glance at the clock beside his bed told him what time it was and thus, who was at the door. Chekov pried himself out of bed and went to open the door.

Folsom grinned at him. “Hello, love. Hope you didn’t forget about me.”

Chekov rubbed a hand across his eyes. “I do not feel up to this tonight. Sorry.”

“Hey, now, don’t be like that.” Folsom pressed past Chekov and into the room. He stood with his arms on his hips. “I’ve been thinking about this for hours.”

The door slid shut and Chekov felt a little trapped suddenly. “I do not want to have sex.” He crossed his arms, trying to put off a more intimidating air.

Folsom’s grin turned into a frown. He looked vaguely threatening, even though he was shorter than Chekov and equally as thin. “Well then, I guess this is the last you’ll see of me.”

“Wha… what?”

Folsom shrugged. “If you don’t feel like it, then maybe I don’t feel like dating a pain in the arse teenager.”

Chekov’s chest clenched. Folsom was the only person Chekov had been with since the slave ship who had come back for more. If even Folsom didn’t want Chekov, then who would? He was dirty. No one would ever want him.

Chekov could hear words in the back of his head. Dirty. Unlovable. Slut. Whore. Disgusting. Everything that his rapists had ever called him raced to the front of his mind. He had ignored those words when they had been said, certain that Sulu was out there, that his Hikaru loved him. But Sulu didn’t love him. Sulu thought he was disgusting. He was unlovable. He was dirty.

Chekov let his arms fall. “I am sorry,” he whispered.

Folsom’s grin returned. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

Chekov had to convince Folsom to stay. He was Chekov’s last chance. If he couldn’t love Chekov, no one could. “I am not so tired now that I have woken up more.” Chekov stepped towards Folsom, pressing a hand to his cheek. “I am ready now.”

Folsom nodded. “Now that’s what I wanted to hear.” He leaned forward and kissed Chekov hard.

Chekov’s mind screamed at the unwanted touch. Folsom pressed harder, moving Chekov backwards towards the bed. Chekov didn’t want this, but he couldn’t stop it now. His knees hit the edge of the bed and he stumbled and fell. Folsom was over him in an instant, pulling off his clothes.

It was too much like the ship, too much like a rape even though he had consented, too much, too much, too much!

Chekov fell straight into his fantasy world. Folsom was no longer Folsom. Now he was Sulu, and Sulu was kissing Chekov gently. Slowly Sulu peeled off Chekov’s clothes, kissing each piece of skin as it was revealed. Chekov moaned and Sulu moved up to swallow the sound with another kiss.

When Chekov was naked, Sulu stripped off his own clothes and pressed close to Chekov. Fireworks passed between them as Sulu caressed Chekov. The kisses they shared vacillated between hot and heavy and slow and sensual, each one pushing Chekov higher towards his peak.

Sulu’s hand slid down and grasped Chekov, squeezing gently. Chekov gasped, arcing his back to press into Sulu’s grip. He reached out and fumbled for Sulu, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him as close as two people could be.

Sulu just moved slowly, rubbing his erection on Chekov’s thigh. His hand moved up and down on Chekov’s erection, squeezing and releasing like a parody of a massage. Chekov imagined that being inside Sulu would feel just like that, his inner muscles grasping and releasing on each thrust. The image made him gasp and sent his arousal skyrocketing. They moved together, rocking into each other. With every thrust Sulu made against Chekov, he squeezed his hand a little. Anxious to feel more, Chekov grabbed Sulu’s backside and tugged him closer.

Sulu stilled on top of him, then gasped. Chekov could feel Sulu coming on his thigh, and it made him moan. He wanted to come, _needed_ to come, but Sulu’s grip was slackening as he collapsed onto Chekov’s chest. Chekov ground up into his body and Sulu groaned. The sound pushed Chekov over the edge and he shuddered and came.

“Chekov, love… you don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Sulu moaned but… that wasn’t Sulu’s voice. And Sulu would never call him “Chekov” in bed

Chekov fell out of his fantasy. Folsom was above him, fucking him. He moaned with every other breath, murmuring things like “baby, so good” or “you’re so tight, love.”

Chekov cringed away from the sight. He wasn’t in pain, in fact… he felt good, still coming down from his orgasm, but it didn’t feel right to look up and see Folsom instead of Sulu.

Folsom shuddered suddenly, pressing as far into Chekov as he could get and freezing there. “Christ,” Folsom gasped. “You’re so fucking hot tonight with all that whimpering and squirming.” He leaned over, thrusting lightly through the aftermath of his orgasm. “What is it that has you so excited? Like a little power play in bed, eh?” Folsom reached down to grab Chekov’s cock, but it was already flaccid. “Shite, you got off without being touched. I’m impressed.”

Chekov couldn’t breathe. Folsom was leaning over him, pressing down on him, trapping him. “Off, get off!” Chekov shoved at Folsom’s shoulders until he rolled off.

Folsom gave him a funny look. “Seriously, mate, what’s up with you tonight?”

“Nothing. I told you I did not want to have sex.” Chekov scrambled out of bed and to the bathroom. “I am going to take a shower.”

Rolling his eyes, Folsom followed him out of bed. “Come on, love. You aren’t done for the night already?”

“Yes. I am done.” Chekov pointed at the door. “Go.” His finger shook, undermining the strength of his command.

Folsom pulled on his pants. “Fine. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m working the Beta-Gamma swing shift the next three days, but I’ll come by on Wednesday to see you, alright?”

Chekov struggled to pull himself together. It hadn’t been a rape. He told Folsom yes.

Then why did it feel like it had he had been ripped apart and not put back together?

Chekov wrapped his arms around himself, shielding as much of his body as he could from Folsom’s leering gaze. “Wednesday,” he muttered.

Folsom let himself out, and Chekov got into the shower. He turned on the sonic reverberators and let them pulse onto his body. It didn’t feel like he was getting clean, so he turned the frequency up. The slick feeling of grime clung to his body. He turned the shower up as high as it could go. The sound grated on his eardrums and drowned out the buzz of his thoughts. The shower irritated his skin, turning it red and raw.

After a few minutes on high power, Chekov had to shut off the shower to stop his skin from being abraded. He climbed out of the shower, but he still didn’t feel clean. After putting on his pajamas, he stripped the bed and threw the sheets into the dematerializer. He remade the bed and climbed into it.

Sleep did not come easily. All he could think of was the slave ship.

His mother had told him once that innocence was attractive and people would want to hurt him to destroy it. Chekov thought it wasn’t his innocence they wanted to destroy; it was him. His innocence had been gone for a long time now.

What was it about Chekov that made people want to hurt him? He knew, intellectually, that it was them who had something wrong with them, but it seemed impossible that so many people could hurt him unless he was sending off some kind of signal that screamed “rape me.”

Sulu was different though. Even though he didn’t love Chekov, he still wanted to protect him. He still cared about Chekov, more than any of the men who had fucked Chekov since he got back on the ship. Sulu was amazing. He was everything Chekov had ever wanted, all wrapped up inside one attractive man.

Chekov smiled sadly to himself. If only Sulu loved him. Chekov’s chest tightened, squeezing his heart till it ached. Still, Sulu cared about him and he would never hurt Chekov. It was good. They were still best friends, and they always would be.

Chekov would always have Sulu. That thought made his chest loosen a little. He got out of bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. He left the light off and opened Sulu’s door, just wanting to take a peek at him.

Sulu sat up in bed. “Chekov?”

Chekov wanted to flee, but he had to reply. “Yes.”

“You can’t sleep?”

“No.” Chekov listened to the blankets rustle around Sulu as he lay back down.

Sulu plopped his head onto his pillow and yawned. “Leave open the bathroom doors then.”

Tears sprung into Chekov’s eyes. Sulu was so good to him. Chekov could not lose this. “Thank you, Hikaru.”

“Night, Pavel.”

“Goodnight.” Chekov watched Sulu until his chest settled into the subtle rise and fall of sleep. Then he tiptoed back through the bathroom, leaving the doors open. Back in his own bed, he could barely hear Sulu breathing. Sulu was such a quiet sleeper.

Chekov closed his eyes and matched his breathing to Sulu’s. Slowly, he drifted off.

~*~

Sulu bit back an exclamation when Folsom swooped in and tugged Chekov away with a grin. “I’ll just be taking my boy back to his room for the night,” he called back to Sulu.

Teresa shook her head. “Folsom is such a jerk. What’s Chekov doing with him?”

“I don’t know!” Sulu couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. First Chekov seemed to be making his way through every jerk on the ship, and then suddenly he was seriously dating Folsom. “I wish I could just convince him to break it off.”

Teresa cuddled into his side. “You’re a good friend, Sulu.”

“Sometimes I don’t feel like it.” Sulu sighed. “I want to do more for Chekov but… I’m afraid he’ll get the wrong impression.”

“That’s the first time you’ve admitted that you think Chekov likes you.” Teresa scooted over a little, reaching for her glass of juice.

Sulu shrugged. He didn’t want to think about Chekov liking him. The two kisses Chekov had given him had felt… strange. Not bad, like he had always expected a man’s kiss to feel. Just… different. Thinking about Chekov liking him felt like the kisses: different, but not bad. And Sulu wasn’t sure he liked that.

Teresa took a drink and set her glass aside. “What changed to make you admit it?”

Chekov had changed. He never spent time with Sulu anymore. Now the only person he paid attention to was Folsom. “I don’t like Folsom. I wish I knew someone decent I could set Chekov up. He’s a great guy, and he deserves better.” Not that it would be hard to find someone better than Folsom, but most of the men on the ship were either paired off or, as far as Sulu knew, not interested in men, and Chekov didn’t like women.

Teresa shrugged. “Nothing we can do about it. Chekov’s old enough to make his own decisions.” She glanced down at her plate, then looked back up at Sulu with a flirty smile. “And now that he’s gone, we can eat dinner alone for once.”

“I thought you liked Chekov eating dinner with us.” Sulu had asked before inviting Chekov to eat dinner with them because he didn’t want to neglect Teresa’s feelings. It was hard to watch his best friend sitting across the mess and eating alone, but dinner was the only time he saw Teresa. Having both of them at his table had seemed like the best of both worlds.

Teresa opened her mouth, as if to say something, then closed it.

“What?” Sulu prompted.

“Nothing.” She prodded her carrots with her fork. “It’s… it’s nothing.”

“Tell me.” He didn’t want her to be upset with him.

She set down her fork and turned to face Sulu as best as she could in her seat. “I was fine with Chekov eating with us every once in a while. It’s only been two months since you found him, I get that. But this is the only time I get to spend with you unless one of us has a day off, and I want to spend it with _you_ , not Chekov.”

“I asked if you were okay with it.” Precisely because he didn’t want this to happen.

Teresa’s hand clenched on the table. “I thought you meant could he sit with us one time, not could he sit with us every night for two weeks.”

Sulu looked away. His gaze fell on the empty table in the corner where Chekov usually sat when he was alone. “You can’t tell me you want him to sit alone.”

“He has other friends, Sulu.” Her hand grabbed his arm, but he didn’t turn to look at her.

All he could see was his memory of Chekov’s slumped shoulders as he picked at Chinese food. No one else ever sat with Chekov. Sulu thought they weren’t sure how to treat Chekov after what he had gone through. So Chekov sat alone and nursed his recent addiction to Chinese food. It was depressing. Sulu wished he could just scream at everyone that Chekov was the same navigator they had always known and loved.

Teresa tugged at his arm again. “He isn’t going to die if he eats alone.”

Sulu spun around to face her. That was just it. Chekov had come so close to dying, gone through so much, and Sulu didn’t want him to have to deal with more pain. After Chekov disappeared, Sulu had spent a fair number of meals eating alone. If he could keep Chekov from that pain, he would. “I want to be there for him.”

She let go of him. “But if you’re there for Chekov, you aren’t here for me.”

“You don’t need me like Chekov does.” Couldn’t she see that?

Teresa shook her head. “You’re right. I don’t need you. Obviously, you don’t need me either.” She stood and grabbed her tray. “I think we’re done.”

Sulu looked at his plate. “I’ve still got half my meal left.”

“No, Sulu. _We’re_ done. Since you found Chekov, he’s been all you think about, all you talk about. I feel like he really is your boyfriend. You spend all day with him, and I don’t even get a meal alone with you.”

“We’re breaking up because I feel bad for my best friend?” What kind of logic was that? “When Chekov gets better, you’ll have me all to yourself. Can’t you share for a little while?”

She bit her lip. “I should have seen it coming. I was the one who called it a doomed romance.” She shrugged. “I was just talking about the wrong relationship at the time.” She started to walk away.

“Teresa!” Sulu scrambled out of his seat, nearly knocking his tray off the table. “Don’t do this.”

She turned back. “Do you love me?”

“I…” He could love her. He wanted to love her. He didn’t know her well enough yet though. “Someday, I will.”

“I don’t want someday. I want today.”

She left. Sulu didn’t follow her.

She was right. Sulu had ignored her for Chekov. Sulu couldn’t give her the love she wanted and deserved. He was as big of a jerk as Folsom. At least Folsom made it clear that all he wanted from Chekov was sex. Sulu had tried to love Teresa, but he just hadn’t been able to fall in love. If they had spent more time together, maybe he would have, but it was too late now.

Sulu took a seat and started to eat his food again. He’d go find Teresa later and do what he could to repair their friendship, but he would let their relationship go. She deserved love and Sulu couldn’t give it to her.

When his meal was gone, he replicated himself a huge bowl of ice cream and took it to his room. Breaking up might be better for them both, but that didn’t mean Sulu had to be happy about it. He was going to drown his sorrows in double fudge swirl and old movies.

~*~

Chekov waited until they were in the turbolift to yank his arm out of Folsom’s grasp. “Why did you do that?”

“What?” Folsom looked at him quizzically. “I told you I had tonight off.”

Chekov crossed his arms. Sulu had started inviting Chekov to eat dinner with him and Teresa, and Chekov did not appreciate being dragged away from his meal. Partially because when Chekov was sitting with them, Sulu did not act all lovey-dovey towards Teresa, and Chekov wasn’t above admitting he was a jealous fool.

Folsom reached out and ran a finger down Chekov’s cheek. “Now, don’t be like that, mate. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Folsom had taken Chekov on a nice date not quite a week ago. They had gone bowling in the ship’s bowling alley, and then ate a special dinner in Folsom’s room. It had been nice, especially when Folsom didn’t ask for sex that night. Maybe the surprise was another date?

Folsom just smirked. “You’ll see. It’s in your room.”

Chekov relaxed his posture. Folsom was trying to be a good boyfriend. It was nice. The lift chimed and opened. Chekov stepped out into the corridor. Folsom hurried ahead, and Chekov had to resist the urge to reach out for him. Chekov wanted to do simple things like hold hands and kiss cheeks, but Folsom had called him girly when he admitted that. Folsom wouldn’t take Chekov’s hand, not even in private.

Folsom stopped at Chekov’s door. “We are going to have fun tonight, love!” he exclaimed, and then he keyed in Chekov’s code.

Chekov frowned at that. He had not given Folsom his code. He didn’t want Folsom to have it.

Folsom walked in without asking. “Well, come on,” he called to Chekov.

Chekov entered his room. He was shocked to find Roemer sitting on his bed.

Folsom grinned. “Well, what do you think?”

“I do not understand.”

Folsom sidled up next to him and slid an arm around his shoulder. “Turns out Roemer here is pretty upset that I managed to snag you. Since I’m a magnanimous kind of bloke, I was thinking I could share you for a little while.”

“You want to watch me have sex with Roemer?” There had been men and women like that on the slave ship, who had gotten off on watching someone take him.

“Oh, I’m not magnanimous enough to just sit back and watch.” Folsom leered at him. “I want a piece of the action.”

So that’s what he meant. “I do not feel comfortable with this.” It had always been worse on the ship when there was more than one person.

Folsom leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Come on, now. You tempted Roemer with your pretty little arse, and then you dropped him like a rock. Don’t you think he deserves a little conciliation?”

Chekov looked up at Roemer. He was sitting on the bed and watching them talk. One of his hands was between his legs, fumbling with his erection through his pants. Chekov shuddered and looked away. Roemer had not been a bad bed partner, but he hadn’t seemed to want any more of Chekov than that one night. Chekov doubted Folsom’s claims that he had broken Roemer’s heart.

“And,” Folsom added, “I think this is something you need to do for me. I took you on that nice date. Shouldn’t I get something in return?”

Chekov felt tainted. He had really enjoyed their date. “I do not want to do this.”

“Then I’ll just take Roemer back to my room, and I won’t ever come back to bother you again.” Folsom withdrew and wandered over to the bed. “Hey, Roemer, what do you think about moving this to my room? Chekov isn’t interested.”

Roemer frowned. “Why not?”

“Don’t ask me.” Folsom leaned down to grab Roemer’s erection and tugged on it. Roemer groaned and rolled his hips up into Folsom’s hand. “I’m still very interested though.”

Roemer ground into Folsom’s hand again, then stood. “Let’s go then. Bye, Chekov.”

Folsom followed Roemer to the door. “Bye, Chekov. I guess I’ll see you around.”

He was going to leave, just like that? Chekov was going to lose him, just because he would not have a threesome. He had done it before. It hadn’t been that bad, as long as both men had not penetrated his anus at the same time. He could do it again, and then he wouldn’t lose his boyfriend.

But did he want a boyfriend like Folsom? All he cared about was sex. He never acted like Chekov was anything more than a fuck toy. He’d never love Chekov.

But who could? Maybe Chekov was just a fuck toy. So many people had used him, hundreds of men and women from all over the galaxy. Every last bit of him had been taken, used, and thrown away. He had nothing to offer a lover except his heart, and that belonged to Sulu.

And yet, Folsom stuck around, even though Chekov could give him nothing. Who else would do that? If Chekov let Folsom go, he would have no one.

Folsom and Roemer were already out the door when Chekov came to his conclusion. He rushed out into the hallway. “Wait!”

They turned back to look at him.

“I will… I will do it.”

Folsom and Roemer both leered at him. “So glad you saw my point,” said Folsom.

Chekov nodded. “Yes. Please come back.”

Folsom and Roemer headed back towards Chekov. As they passed him and entered the room, Folsom leaned over and whispered in Chekov’s ear, “You’re gonna have fun. Stop acting like we’re about to kill you.”

Shaking off his tension as best as he could, Chekov moved back into his room and locked the door. Roemer and Folsom were stripping, but Chekov moved to make sure the bathroom was locked before peeling off his clothes. Sulu couldn’t know about this.

Roemer was already on the bed when Chekov crawled into it. He grabbed Chekov’s arm and tugged him until Chekov collapsed on his chest. He yanked Chekov down into a harsh kiss. Folsom sat down on the bed beside them and snaked a hand between them until he was holding Chekov’s cock. It was limp and Folsom made a disgusted sound and switched to tugging on Roemer’s erection.

Roemer groaned into the kiss and humped his hips. He pulled away from the kiss only long enough to moan, “I wanna be in you,” and then he was attacking Chekov’s lips again.

Chekov could see Folsom rubbing himself off next to them. “Christ, that’s hot. I’m going to lube Chekov up for you,” Folsom said. He got off the bed and grabbed lube from his discarded pants. He fumbled some onto his fingers and then reached back where Chekov couldn’t see. His fingers traced Chekov’s anus, slicking up the area around it, before one delved inside.

Folsom’s finger prodded at Chekov’s prostate just as Roemer rutted up against him. The sheer physical pleasure made Chekov moan and his cock started to swell. Folsom reached around and wrapped his hand around both Chekov and Roemer while he continued opening Chekov up with one, then two, then three fingers. With every crook of Folsom’s finger, Chekov grew harder, until he was erect and well stretched.

Folsom moved behind him then, and placed the head of his cock at Chekov’s entrance. He sunk inside of him with one quick shove.

Chekov broke off his kiss with Roemer to keen at the abrupt sensation of fullness. Roemer frowned beneath him, then seemed to realize what had happened. “Hey!” Roemer protested. “I wanted to fuck him!”

Folsom leaned over Chekov’s back and kissed Roemer quickly. “No worries. There’s room enough for both of us.”

It took Chekov a moment to process Folsom’s words, and by then it was too late. Folsom was helping Roemer sink inside Chekov too. It didn’t hurt much, thanks to Folsom’s preparations, but it hurt enough to make Chekov remember all of the rapes.

He fluctuated between the present and the past. One particularly vivid memory of two Klingons violently ripping him open flooded his mind. He felt trapped in the memory, trapped in the moment. The world closed in on him, suffocating him, and he opened his mouth to gasp for breath. Instead of a gasp, he let out a scream.

“Like that, do you?” Folsom chuckled. “Told you tonight would be fun.”

Fun? This was not fun. Chekov wanted to run away. Roemer hit his prostate hard then, and Chekov screamed again. It felt good, and he didn’t want it to feel good. He wanted it to be over!

“Pavel? Are you okay?”

That was Sulu, calling through the bathroom door. He couldn’t find out what was happening. He couldn’t! “I-I am fine!” he yelled back, but Folsom bucked hard and shoved Roemer into Chekov’s prostate. He held back his scream as best as he could, but it wasn’t enough.

“I’m coming in,” Sulu called, and Chekov heard a lock code being keyed into the bathroom door. Why had he ever given Sulu the code? He shoved at Roemer, trying to get away, but Roemer was underneath him and couldn’t move. Folsom didn’t even seem to care that Sulu was entering the room; he kept pumping away.

The door finally slid open, and Chekov was still trapped between the two men. Sulu stared with wide eyes.

“Pavel?”

Folsom snorted behind Chekov. “Either close the door or stop staring and join in. I don’t give a damn either way.”

Sulu choked. “I… god, no! You fucking pervert!”

Pervert. The word rang in Chekov’s head. Pervert. Slut. Bitch. Cunt. Dirty. Whore. Freak. Disgusting. Chekov was a pervert. He was everything everyone had ever called him.

_Pervert._

Sulu would hate him now, Sulu would not want to talk to him, Sulu would never look at him, Sulu, Hikaru, Pervert, Sulu, Pervert, Hikaru, Pervert, _Pervert_.

Everything went white. 


	4. Chapter 4

Sulu had just entered his room with his ice cream, which was starting to melt, when he heard a scream from Chekov’s room. It sounded like Chekov was in pain. Sulu entered the bathroom, but didn’t try to open the door when he heard sex noises coming from the other side of the door. Folsom had dragged him off earlier. It was obvious what they were doing. Sulu turned back to his room.

Then Chekov screamed again. It did not sound like a scream of ecstasy. To Sulu, it sounded like he was in horrible pain. “Pavel?” he called. “Are you okay?” He let his hand hover over the door lock. He didn’t want to enter if Chekov was alright, but it sounded like he was in trouble.

Chekov’s voice was a feeble yell. “I-I am fine!” His words were almost immediately followed by another scream, though this one sounded stifled.

Sulu’s stomach squirmed. Something didn’t feel right. Whatever was happening in there, Chekov didn’t like it. “I’m coming in,” Sulu called, and he keyed the code Chekov had given him for emergencies into the door.

When the door opened, he found Chekov in his room. He was in between Folsom and Roemer and it looked like… it looked like they were both inside Chekov.

“Pavel?” he asked softly. Chekov wouldn’t meet his eyes. Did Chekov really want this to happen or had he been pressured into something he didn’t want? Those screams had sounded horrible.

Folsom glanced at Sulu and snorted. “Either close the door or stop staring and join in. I don’t give a damn either way.” Roemer nodded underneath Chekov and grinned lasciviously.

Sulu choked on air. “I… god, no! You fucking pervert!” Chekov was in pain, and Folsom actually thought Sulu would _join in_?

Suddenly, Chekov’s gaze flickered to Sulu. Sulu watched Chekov’s eyes roll up into the back of his head, and then he collapsed. “Pavel!”

Roemer shoved at Chekov’s shoulders. “Chekov? What’s wrong?”

Chekov wasn’t moving. Sulu ran over to the bed and shoved at Folsom. “Damn it, get away from him! Something’s wrong.”

Folsom pulled out and moved away quickly. Roemer helped Sulu pull Chekov into an upright position and then Roemer slipped out from under him. Sulu settled Chekov back into the bed, ignoring the men to check Chekov’s pulse and breathing. Both were steady and normal.

“What happened? We-we didn’t do anything!” Folsom’s eyes were wide and panicked.

Sulu laughed, though there wasn’t any humor in the situation. “You obviously did something. He was screaming in pain before I came in.”

Roemer was pulling on his clothes, but he stopped at Sulu’s words. “I thought he was screaming because he liked it.” He swallowed hard. “He said it was okay. I wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t consented.”

Consent. Consent required the person to be of sound mind and body. Judging by the fact that Chekov had just _passed out_ , he obviously wasn’t in any condition to consent to anything. “Pavel spent ten months being raped daily. You couldn’t even wait a month after that to fuck him. And not even two months after that, you put him through a threesome. Did you ever think that maybe he felt like he had to do it? That maybe he was conditioned into the mindset that he had to after ten months?” Sulu had considered it. He’d tried to keep Chekov from thinking it. Obviously he hadn’t succeeded.

Folsom and Roemer just gaped at him. Sulu shook his head, disgusted with both of them. “Just get your fucking clothes on and get out of here.” Chekov’s eyes were moving rapidly behind his eyelids, as if he were dreaming. Sulu reached out and pressed a hand to his forehead.

Chekov shifted and moaned, and Folsom and Roemer, now fully dressed, fled the room. Good riddance. Sulu watched as Chekov wiggled more and his eyes opened.

“Hey, Pavel.”

Chekov blinked at him. “Hello.” His voice was eerily emotionless, even more so than Spock’s usually was.

Sulu reached for Chekov’s hand. He squeezed it and tried to smile at his friend. “Are you okay? You kind of passed out there.”

“Hello.” Chekov blinked again. “I want a fortune cookie.”

Sulu’s stomach clenched. “Pavel?”

Chekov sighed. “Pervert. Slut. Whore. Unlovable.”

There was something majorly wrong with Chekov. He wasn’t insulting Sulu, just saying the words as if he was reciting facts. Sulu glanced around the room for Chekov’s comm system, then realized his communicator was still on his shirt. He tapped it on. “Sulu to Sickbay.”

“Sickbay here,” McCoy replied.

“I’m in Lieutenant Chekov’s quarters and he’s acting strangely. Something’s wrong.”

“Does he need immediate treatment or can you walk to sickbay?”

Sulu turned to Chekov. “Do you think you can make it to sickbay?”

Chekov didn’t answer, but he sat up in bed and then stood up and started walking.

“We’ll be in sickbay in a minute,” Sulu replied. Then he realized that Chekov hadn’t stopped walking. The bedroom door slid open and Chekov stepped out into the hall, still naked. “Sulu out,” he blurted, and then he grabbed a sheet from where it had fallen on the floor.

He rushed into the hall, which was thankfully deserted at that time of night. He caught up to Chekov and wrapped the sheet around his shoulders. Chekov didn’t make any move to hold onto it, so Sulu had to walk next to him and keep the sheet wrapped tight to protect his modesty.

Chekov moved mechanically into the turbolift, turned around to face the door, and then just stood there. Sulu had to reach out and key in sickbay as their destination. Chekov stood still as the turbolift began to move, though his arms twitched sporadically beneath his sheet.

The ride to sickbay seemed interminable. When they finally stopped on the proper level, the doors opened. Chekov didn’t move.

“Come on, Pavel. We need to get to sickbay.” Sulu tugged on the sheet, urging Chekov forward.

Chekov nodded. “Sickbay. You’ll be fine Sulu. I wiped off the pollen.”

What? That made no sense at all. Still, to reassure Chekov, Sulu agreed. “Yes, I’ll be fine. We’re almost there now.” He was still tugging Chekov forward with the blanket.

They turned the corner and were at sickbay. Sulu kept pulling as the doors slid open.

McCoy was waiting for them. “Hello, Mr. Chekov. Tell me your symptoms please.”

Chekov nodded again. “Unlovable. Pervert. Dirty.”

McCoy had his tricorder out in a flash. “High levels of cortisol and norepinephrine. Heightened activity in the limbic system, and suppressed activity in the hippocampus.” He looked at Sulu. “What happened before he ended up like this?”

Sulu took a deep breath. “I caught him in the middle of a threesome.”

McCoy’s eyebrows flew up. “He hasn’t been cleared for sexual activity!”

Shit! “He never mentioned that. I would have stopped them if I had known.”

“Tell me it was at least consensual. There’s no telling what another rape could have done to him.”

“I don’t know…” Roemer and Folsom hadn’t seemed like they thought they were raping Chekov. They honestly thought it was consensual. “I think Chekov had agreed, but I don’t know if he actually wanted it to happen.”

“I need to know who he was with. I’ll take DNA samples off Chekov, but it will be easier if I know whose DNA I’m looking for.”

Chekov whimpered a little. Sulu felt horrible for him. This must be incredibly embarrassing. “It was Roemer and Folsom. I don’t know their first names. Chekov has been with both of them before, but I don’t think he really likes either of them.”

Chekov sighed despondently. “Unlovable.”

McCoy motioned to the nearest biobed. “I want to run a few scans, but I think I know what’s going on. Hop up on the bed, Mr. Chekov.”

Chekov stepped forward, yanking the sheet out of Sulu’s grasp. It fell to the ground, but Chekov kept walking until he climbed onto the biobed.

McCoy shook his head. “I should have seen this coming.” He bustled over the bed. “Mr. Chekov, can you tell me anything about what happened tonight?”

“Hikaru,” Chekov murmured.

“I’m here.” Sulu stepped up next to the bed, taking the opportunity to cover up Chekov with the sheet.

Chekov started to cry. “Pervert.”

Sulu remembered what he had said to Folsom. “I called one of the men he was with a pervert, and he passed out. Since he woke up, he keeps saying that word.”

McCoy grabbed a hypospray and injected Chekov. Sulu opened his mouth to ask what it was, but McCoy beat him to it. “I just gave him some medication to reduce the stress hormones and adrenaline in his body. It should calm him down.”

“What’s happening to him?”

McCoy frowned. “As far as I can tell, the threesome trigged his memories of his past traumas and sent him into a mental breakdown. A mental breakdown usually takes a while to build up though, and I haven’t seen any symptoms.”

“What kind of symptoms?” Sulu tried to think back to Chekov’s recent actions. “He’s seemed a little depressed lately.” Chekov was still crying. Sulu wiped away the tears with a corner of the sheet.

McCoy grabbed another hypospray. “This is an anti-anxiety medication.” He injected Chekov gently. “Depression is often one of the major signs. There also might have been signs of anxiety, insomnia, agitation, indecision, loss of judgment, loss or increase in appetite, or mood swings.”

There had been a few signs then. Sulu hadn’t even thought of them as symptoms. “He hasn’t been sleeping well. He likes to leave the doors of our bathroom open and I can hear him tossing and turning all night. He hasn’t been eating well either. All he eats is Chinese food, and he only picks at it.”

McCoy hit a few buttons on the biobed. Results appeared on the screen. “He’s still malnourished. He doesn’t have nearly enough vitamins and minerals in his body. On top of the insomnia, loss of appetite—” Chekov let out a large sob. “—and incessant crying, it fits the requirements for an acute stress reaction.”

If Sulu had known that Chekov wasn’t supposed to have sex, he would have tried harder to keep Roemer and Folsom away from him. Sulu could have kept this from happening, if only he had known.

He couldn’t change the past though. At least he would be able to help in the future. “Can you do anything for him?”

McCoy nodded. “He’s received some therapy, but obviously not enough. His profile said he was dealing with the stress, so I spent more time working with the most at risk victims. I’ll remedy that by increasing his therapy. I’ll also adjust the dose of the anti-depression medication he’s taking.” McCoy poked a few more buttons on the screen. “Good, his brain activity is slowing. He should be back to functioning soon, and able to return to his normal life within a few weeks.”

Sulu let out a gust of air. Thank god. Chekov would be okay. He took a moment to wipe away Chekov’s tears again.

McCoy injected Chekov again. “I’m giving him a sedative. He should sleep the rest of the night. If you want to come check on him in the morning, he might be awake before Alpha shift starts.”

Chekov’s tears were slowing, and his breathing was evening out. “Hikaru,” he whimpered.

Sulu put a hand on Chekov’s shoulder. “I’m here.” And he was there to stay. He would do whatever he could to help Chekov through this.

McCoy removed the sheet from Chekov and replaced it with a thick blanket. He handed the sheet to Sulu. “Go get some sleep, Lieutenant. You can see him in the morning.”

Sulu nodded, but he didn’t want to leave.

Chekov’s eyes were closing and he was close to falling asleep. He would be fine. Sulu could do more for him if he got some sleep. Reluctantly, Sulu squeezed Chekov’s shoulder once more and then left sickbay. He would be back first thing in the morning.

~*~

Chekov woke up in sickbay with Sulu holding his hand. How nice; he was dreaming. “Hello, Hikaru.”

Sulu’s gaze jumped from the biobed readout to Chekov’s face. “Oh, thank god, you’re awake. How are you?”

Sulu looked nervous. How sweet! Chekov smiled. “I am fine. Why are we in sickbay?” Usually in his dreams Sulu was the one in the biobed, not him.

Sulu squeezed his hand. “You had a mental breakdown last night after I found you with Folsom and Roemer.”

This was not a dream then. It was real life. Real life, where Sulu thought he was a pervert. But he was holding Chekov’s hand. It didn’t make sense. Chekov could remember flashes of walking to sickbay and McCoy giving him hypospray injections, but the memories were blurry and disjointed. What he did know was that even if it was a dream, Chekov should be feeling upset that Sulu had caught him with Folsom and Roemer. Instead, he just had an overwhelming feeling of calm. “I feel strange.”

McCoy appeared then and prodded Chekov with a tricorder. “That’s because you’ve got tons of anti-anxiety and anti-depression drugs in your bloodstream. Be grateful this is the twenty-third century. If this was a couple hundred years ago, you’d still be raving incoherently.”

Sulu frowned. “It’s almost time for my shift. I have to go, but I’ll come back and visit you at lunch.”

Wasn’t Sulu disgusted? Why was he visiting Chekov? “I will see you later?” Chekov meant it to be a statement, but it came out as a question. Maybe Sulu had been forced to come see him. He probably would not be back later.

Sulu squeezed Chekov’s hand again before releasing it. “Bye!”

“Goodbye, Mr. Sulu.” McCoy returned to his office.

“Goodbye, Hikaru.” As Sulu exited sickbay, someone Chekov recognized came in. “T’Plen!”

T’Plen nodded at him. “Hello, Chekov.” She looked strange, her hair the same length as Chekov’s. He wondered if all the ex-slaves had short, fuzzy hair now.

“I did not know you had made it off the ship.” There had been so many slaves saved, and Chekov had avoided them to try to forget about what had happened.

T’Plen came to stand next to him. “I was fortunate enough to be saved by Lieutenant Sulu.”

“How are you?” Chekov asked. She seemed healthier, with greener skin and more body fat than she had on the ship, though she was still too skinny.

“I am healthy and mentally stable. My bondmate was rescued, and upon our reunion, we completed our bond. It has served to solidify my mental health.” She nodded towards the biobed screen. “You do not appear to have achieved a similar state.”

Chekov should probably have been embarrassed by her statement, but the drugs made it easy to explain. “I tried to do the meditation like you told me. Only, I thought of one person so much, I fell in love with him. He does not love me back. He thinks I am a pervert. It is terrible.”

T’Plen’s eyebrows came together ever so slightly. “I do not understand how meditation would have caused that to occur. Meditation removes emotions from my psyche.”

“Perhaps I am broken.”

“No. I do not believe we are speaking of the same style of meditation.” T’Plen’s eyebrows returned to their normal position.

McCoy popped his head out of his office then. “Ah, good morning, T’Plen. How is your work with the Vulcan and Romulan survivors going?”

“Very well. I came to inform you that I have succeeded in teaching the majority of the Romulan population how to meditate, and that Vulcan population has nearly completed their mental healing. I am now attempting to alleviate the Betazoids’ communal despair.”

“Excellent,” McCoy muttered. “We’re still two weeks away from Earth. Can you handle the workload till then? My hands are full with the non-telepathic species.”

“Are you a doctor?” Chekov asked T’Plen.

T’Plen shook her head. “I had only begun basic medical training prior to my capture. I know only enough to help those around me calm their emotions.”

That sounded nice. “Can you teach me?”

McCoy smacked his hand on the doorframe. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that? T’Plen, he’s dealing with an acute stress reaction. Would you be able to help him through it?”

“I believe so, but he has stated that prior attempts to teach him meditation while on the ship created this state. I am wary of attempting to teach him more, as I may simply exacerbate the condition.”

Chekov sat up in bed. “I am sure you can help. I probably was not meditating right.”

McCoy stepped out of the doorway, closer to them. “Whatever you can do is more than I can do. All I’ve got are drugs to pump him full of and some outdated notions on therapy for post-traumatic stress syndrome sufferers.”

T’Plen pulled her arms behind her back and linked her hands. “Very well. I shall attempt it.”

“Thank you.” McCoy moved over to the tray of medical tools next to Chekov and grabbed a hypospray. He injected Chekov more gently than normal. “Why don’t you start now? I just gave him a booster, so he should be able to work with you for a while before he gets upset again.” McCoy put away the hypospray and headed for the door of sickbay. “I need to go check on some of the survivors. I won’t be back until my shift tonight, but Nurse Chapel is in my office if you need anything and Doctor M’Benga will be in shortly.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” T’Plen stepped up to Chekov’s bed. “Are you ready to begin the therapy?”

“Yes.”

T’Plen raised a hand. “This will require another mind meld. My mind must understand your mind before I can attempt to heal it.”

“It is fine. I trust you.” Even if the meditation had broken his heart, he was sure it was the only thing that had kept him sane and thus alive.

T’Plen initiated the meld, slipping into his mind easily. Unlike the first time, Chekov didn’t get an immediate sense of her thoughts. Instead, it felt like she was just rifling around in his brain. Then if began to feel as if she was separating out his memories.

 _Do not worry. I am merely moving your memories of the ship to the back of your consciousness. You will be able to access them but only with effort, as if they were long forgotten childhood memories._ She took a group of memories and shoved them behind the rest. Then she pulled open a more recent memory. _You love Hikaru Sulu._

 _Yes._ He loved Hikaru with all his heart, even if it was a loved based on delusion.

 _Your love is not a delusion. When you chose Sulu to meditate on instead of your mother or the_ Enterprise _, it was because you already loved him._

That couldn’t be right. They had only been friends before Chekov had been kidnapped. There was nothing like that between them.

 _And yet you treated him as your mother treated your father._ She pulled forward memories of Chekov and Sulu’s interactions, showing mostly memories where Chekov had gone out of his way to do things for Sulu.

Chekov had taken care of Sulu, but that was just Chekov being a friend. He would have helped any of his friends like that.

 _Really?_ She showed him a memory of the time Chekov had spent three weeks updating Sulu’s room interface to respond to voice commands.

He would have done that for anyone. Probably. Three weeks was a long time. Now Chekov wasn’t sure if he really had treated Sulu like a regular friend.

_He was the first person you thought of when you tried to meditate. Even before you moved to romantic fantasies, you imagined him and no other. Your experiences and fantasies may have made your love blossom, but the seeds were there from the beginning._

Then Chekov wasn’t insane?

_No._

That was good. But it didn’t change anything. Sulu still thought he was a pervert.

In his mind, T’Plen made a soft murmuring sound. _He does not think that. Look at your memory again._ T’Plen dragged out one of the memories she had hidden away.

Chekov listened to Sulu calling through the bathroom door. He sounded really worried. Then Chekov replied, and Sulu called that he was coming in. Chekov had frozen then, desperate to escape but unable to do so. Sulu stepped through the doorway and his eyes widened. Chekov watched carefully then. Sulu spoke Chekov’s name softly, gently. His face was shocked, but not angry, until Folsom spoke. Then Sulu choked and glared at Folsom. His disgusted words were directed at Folsom. He wasn’t even looking at Chekov.

Sulu had looked at Chekov softly. And he had been in sickbay that morning. He really did care about Chekov. Sulu didn’t consider him a pervert. He still liked Chekov.

 _He never disliked you._ She showed him more memories, memories where Sulu let Chekov pick the movie they watched or the simulation they played, where they ate together in the mess hall and Sulu ordered a fortune cookie with his meal just so he could give it to Chekov, where Sulu wished Chekov goodnight through their open bathroom doors. Sulu had always liked Chekov.

Chekov could feel his mind settling. It wasn’t the sterile calmness of the medicines, but a true serenity. T’Plen replaced the memories and then withdrew from his mind.

“Thank you,” Chekov whispered. His love for Sulu had felt tainted by his memories of the ship and the fantasies intertwined with them. Now that the memories were gone, his emotions were free. He really did love Sulu. It wasn’t the obsessive love he had developed on the ship. It was a soft, sweet love; one that had been growing since they met.

T’Plen bowed her head. “You are welcome. I am glad I was able to help. Understand that your therapy is not complete.”

“No, I know.” All it would take was one bad experience or a single recalled memory and he could fall apart again.

“You will probably never achieve total peace. None of the survivors shall, not even me.” T’Plen looked almost sad, her eyes partially closed and her shoulders drooping slightly. “We spent too long under high stress. Our brains were damaged by the extreme levels of stress hormones we were exposed to. In Terran terms, nearly all of us have post-traumatic stress syndrome.”

Chekov had studied that in his battle preparation courses. There were a lot of Starfleet personnel who developed it, but post-traumatic stress syndrome was mostly manageable with therapy and medication. “We will be fine.”

“Indubitably.”

Chekov laughed. He felt so normal. Gone was the feeling that he was unlovable and dirty. Instead, he felt like he had on his first day at the Academy: intelligent, excited, and worthy. He was a lieutenant. He was smart. He was strong. He was amazing, and it didn’t matter what anyone thought about him.

T’Plen put her hands behind her back again. “I must leave now to meet with some patients of mine, but I will return tonight for another session.”

Chekov nodded. “Thank you again, T’Plen. I am so glad these memories are gone.”

T’Plen’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “They are not gone. If you were to forget them completely, it would leave you mentally unstable because the amount of time the memories cover is a significant portion of your life. We will be working to integrate them back into your consciousness in a peaceful way instead.”

Oh. Well, that didn’t sound too bad, as long as he didn’t turn back into how he was before. “I can handle it.”

“I will return prior to the Beta-Gamma shift change.”

“All right. I will see you then.” Chekov waved as T’Plen left, and then he sunk back into the bed. He felt so tired. The weight he had carried for so long was gone, but it had left him with sore muscles and a fractured heart. He needed more time to heal completely.

He closed his eyes. Sulu would be back at lunch time. Chekov had plenty of time to take a nap.

~*~

Sulu slung an arm around Chekov’s shoulders. “So, are you ready to get out of this joint?” Chekov had only been in sickbay for a week, but McCoy had declared him able to move back to his own room already. Sulu was impressed at the progress Chekov was making.

Chekov laughed. “More than ready! I think being in sickbay has made me _more_ insane instead of less.”

Chekov was laughing and joking about his mental breakdown? Amazing. Sulu was surprised at how well Chekov had taken everything since he was admitted to sickbay. If he had been in Chekov’s place, he would probably still be talking nonsensically. Chekov had been working hard to regain his mental stability though, and the techniques T’Plen had taught Chekov had really helped him. Sulu hadn’t seen his friend smile this much since before the kidnapping.

“So, I was thinking…” Sulu started.

“You think? Imagine that!” Chekov elbowed him and Sulu elbowed back.

“Oh, there will be payback for that. Wait and see. Anyway, I was thinking that we should do something together to celebrate your escape from sickbay.” Sulu wanted to hang out or grab dinner or _something_. Without Teresa around to talk to and with Chekov in sickbay where McCoy liked to kick Sulu out at will, there hadn’t been much to do the past few days.

“Oh, that is okay.” Chekov grabbed his bag of things from the floor. Sulu had brought the bag over on Chekov’s second night in sickbay, hoping it would make him feel more comfortable if he had familiar things in sickbay. “You should eat with Teresa tonight. You must not have seen her all week since you’ve been looking after me.”

Chekov seemed honestly upset that he had “stolen” Sulu’s time from Teresa. Before, Chekov had always seemed a little jealous of Teresa. How ironic was it that he accepted Teresa after Sulu had already broken up with her?

“Teresa and I aren’t together anymore.” Sulu hadn’t told Chekov because he wanted to keep Chekov from worrying about Sulu when he should have been worrying about himself.

“Oh.” Chekov grabbed Sulu’s hand and squeezed it. “I am sorry.” He held onto Sulu for a few seconds longer.

When Chekov finally released Sulu, it felt as though Sulu’s whole hand was full of pins and needles. How strange. To calm the feeling, he shoved his hand into his pocket. “It’s alright. We just weren’t right for each other.” His hand was still tingling. He tightened it into a fist.

McCoy appeared in the doorway of his office. “Paperwork’s all set. You are free to go, Mr. Chekov.”

“Thank you, Doctor!” Chekov made a break for the door.

Sulu followed more sedately, laughing when he caught up to Chekov outside of Sickbay. “You really were sick of sickbay, weren’t you?”

Chekov ran a hand across a grey bulkhead. “These gray walls are beautiful simply because they are _new_ gray walls.”

Sulu grabbed Chekov by the arm and dragged him away towards the lift. “Come on. Let’s get you settled in again and then we can grab dinner.”

They returned to Chekov’s room where Chekov took great pleasure in unpacking his bag and putting his things away where they belonged. Sulu watched as Chekov gently placed his picture of his parents on his nightstand.

“They really loved each other, huh?” The couple in the picture looked incredibly happy. Sulu could see Chekov in his parents. Chekov had his mother’s thin frame and his father’s curly hair.

Chekov ran a finger across the picture. “I have never seen a couple as in love as they were. It has always been my dream to share a love like that.”

“Me too.” Sulu knew Chekov’s parents had been best friends before they were lovers. That was what he wanted, more than anything. “I think the person you love should be everything to you.”

Chekov turned and smiled. “Yes. When I love someone, I love everything about them, with all of my heart.”

Chekov loved someone? Was that a statement about a past or present boyfriend? “Do you… do you love Folsom or Roemer then?” Was Chekov even still dating one of them? Sulu hadn’t run into Folsom or Roemer since that night.

Chekov shook his head. “No. They came to apologize to me a few days ago—”

“As they should have.” If they hadn’t apologized, Sulu would have made them.

“No, Sulu, I said it was all right. I consented. They did not know that I was not ready for sex. _I_ did not realize I was not ready.”

Sulu shrugged. It sounded like a stupid excuse to him. He didn’t understand how they could have ever thought Chekov was ready.

Chekov continued, “And I told them I would not be with them anymore.”

“I don’t understand why you were with them in the first place!” They were such losers.

“I was trying to use them to forget the one I loved because I thought he thought I was dirty.” Chekov picked up a teddy bear from his bag and put it on a shelf above his bed.

He was so nonchalant, as if it was perfectly normal for people to consider him dirty. “Pavel, you could never be dirty! It was those people, the ones who did that to you, they’re the dirty ones! If someone thought that about you, they don’t deserve your love.”

Chekov flushed a little. “I was wrong. He didn’t think that. And that is why I love him—because he always thinks the best of me.”

Instead of feeling relieved, Sulu wanted to kick something. “Who is he?”

Chekov tsked. “I will not tell you!”

“Come on, just give me a hint! I want to know who to kill when he breaks your heart.”

“I will not tell.” Chekov winked. “I will take the secret to my grave.”

Chekov giggled. It wasn’t a feminine sound; it was a Chekov sound. It was a sound Sulu hadn’t heard in a year. He wanted to hear it again.

“Let’s go get dinner already. I’m starving!” Sulu put on his best begging face. “I’ll even order you a fortune cookie, but I’m not eating that fake Chinese food.”

Chekov’s giggle was beatific. “I think you protest too much. Inside, you really like the fakeness of it.” He set aside his bag, signaling that he was ready to leave.

Sulu gagged as they left the room. “Do you even know what they put in that stuff? The chemicals! It’s nothing like my mama’s cooking.”

They bantered back and forth as they walked to the mess. Sulu’s complaining about the Chinese food was an old conversation, but it was one they used to have every time Chekov ordered Chinese prior to his kidnapping. It was nice to fall back into the old conversation as if nothing had happened.

Sulu and Chekov got in line at one of the synthesizers. Chekov went first, requesting Kung Pao chicken and a fortune cookie. When his food appeared, Chekov hurried off to save them seats. Sulu took his turn, ordering spaghetti and a chocolate fortune cookie. No matter what Chekov claimed, Sulu knew the chocolate ones were really his favorites.

When he turned to see where Chekov has sat down, Sulu was surprised to see Chekov standing across the room and talking to a science ensign. The man was smiling and laughing, and Chekov… Chekov giggled.

Sulu was supposed to be the one to making Chekov giggle! He looked away from Chekov and the man and spotted an empty table. He stomped over to it and slammed into a seat.

Chekov joined him a minute later. “Sorry, I was talking to Ensign Friedrich about the transporter. He was the one who found them broken the day you rescued everyone on the slave ship, and he’s been trying to learn more about them since then. Next time they break while he’s around, he wants to be able to fix them.”

Chekov seemed really happy, smiling and laughing still. He probably liked this Friedrich. “Is he the one you love?” Sulu asked.

“No, I hardly know him.” Chekov blinked confusedly. “I could never love someone who was not my best friend.”

Neither could Sulu.

And that was when it hit him. Sulu had always imagined falling in love with a woman who was his best friend, his life partner, his everything. Chekov wasn’t a woman, but he fit the rest of the criteria. Sulu had long claimed Chekov as his best friend, and while he wouldn’t have called Chekov his “life partner”, he had always imagined they would be friends for the rest of their lives. And if that wasn’t what a “life partner” was, then Sulu didn’t know what the term meant.

And Chekov really was Sulu’s everything. He was Sulu’s supplement and his complement. If Sulu couldn’t do something then Chekov could, and vice versa. They shared so much too.

The tingling in Sulu’s hand earlier, the fact that he had kind of liked Chekov’s kisses, the betrayal Sulu felt when Friedrich made Chekov giggle, it all made sense. Sulu loved his best friend.

Did Chekov love him back? Sulu was the only person on the ship Chekov had ever called his best friend. And he had just said he could only love his best friend. So didn’t it make sense to say that Chekov loved Sulu? He obviously liked Sulu—why else would he have kissed him?—but did he _love_ Sulu?

Chekov seemed unaware of Sulu’s inner turmoil. He took a few bites of his chicken, then grabbed one of the fortune cookies. It was the chocolate one, of course, because Sulu knew Chekov that well.

Chekov cracked open the cookie. He read the fortune aloud. “‘You love Chinese food.’”

His expression of disbelief over his fortune broke through Sulu’s thoughts. Even though he knew Chekov had programmed in all of the fortune cookie messages and thus had read all of them, Sulu loved how incredibly seriously Chekov took the messages. “…in bed,” he teased, as he always did.

“Actually, I do love to eat it in bed. Still…” Chekov wrinkled his nose, “I do not remember why I used this fortune. It is so stupid. Obviously I like Chinese food if I am replicating a fortune cookie.” He tossed the fortune aside, but ate the rest of the cookie. Chekov was fairly superstitious, and he thought that the fortune wouldn’t come true if he didn’t eat the whole cookie. When Chekov really liked the fortune, Sulu had even caught him licking the cookie crumbs off his fingers.

Sulu started on his spaghetti while Chekov cracked open the next fortune cookie.

“‘Your luck is about to change.’”

“…in bed!” Sulu smirked. That time it even made some sense since Chekov wasn’t having sex with losers anymore.

Chekov rolled his eyes. “Let me finish! ‘Your luck is about to change. What was elusive will now be available. When you are honest with your love, honesty and warmth will come back to you.’”

“…in bed.” Chekov glared. “What? It totally makes sense. If you tell the truth about your love, you’ll usually get love back. And what form does love eventually take? Sex! Which happens…?”

“In bed,” Chekov conceded.

Love did usually end up in sex. And if Sulu loved Chekov and Chekov loved Sulu, did that mean they would have sex? Not now, not when Chekov was still so unsteady, but in the future? Sulu didn’t know. It was too early to decide that. Sulu had only just realized he loved Chekov.

They finished their dinner, talking quietly. Chekov explained how he and Friedrich were becoming friends now and that Chekov was helping Friedrich learn about the transporters. Sulu told Chekov about the plants he was growing, especially the Terostian blood-sucking vine, which seemed determined to attach itself to anyone that walked past.

After dinner, they walked back to their rooms. Chekov stopped at his door, but Sulu was reluctant to let him go. “You know, Spock gave me tomorrow off,” he blurted out. “I think he wanted me to help you settle in.”

“I told you the Commander could be nice sometimes,” Chekov teased.

Okay, maybe Spock and Sulu didn’t get along sometimes. Sulu just didn’t understand how he could be so emotionless. Chekov refused to let that go since he got along with Spock just fine. “Anyway,” Sulu redirected the conversation to a less embarrassing topic, “I was thinking maybe—” He took a deep breath. “—maybe we could make a date of tomorrow?”

This was it. If Chekov said yes, then he obviously loved Sulu because now that he was in a better mental state, Chekov would never date someone he didn’t love. If Chekov said no, then he didn’t love Sulu and Sulu would just have to take his own love and stuff it into the back of his heart until he forgot it.

Sulu waited on tenterhooks as Chekov considered the question. “Well,” he said at last, “I have to meet with T’Plen in the morning for a session, but then I am free all day.”

“Is that a yes?” Sulu asked.

Chekov nodded. “It is a yes.”

Sulu wanted to whoop and jump. Chekov liked him! Probably loved him! He tried to stay calm, but he knew he was smiling to beat the band. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He moved to his door, keying in his unlock code. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?”

“Da, thank you.” Chekov entered his code too. “Goodnight, Hikaru.”

“Night, Pavel!” Sulu waited until Chekov stepped inside to enter his room. The door slid shut behind him and he pumped his fist. “Yes!”

He had a date with Chekov. Chekov liked him. It was everything Sulu had ever dreamed of: falling in love with his best friend.

Sulu heard Chekov’s door to the bathroom slide open and Chekov rustling around inside. He thought about the future. They would be able to leave their bathroom doors open almost all the time. There were very few boundaries between them as it was, and Sulu could see those boundaries lessening even more as they grew closer.

Maybe they would even move in together. They could keep both their rooms and use one as a living room area. They would wake up together in the morning and go to sleep together at night. They would invite their friends over to watch a movie or eat dinner in _their_ quarters, not just Sulu or Chekov’s room. When they got up late and had to hurry to make it to their shift on time, they would fight over the shower. Or share the shower.

Sulu collapsed onto his bed with a thump. He was straight, or at least he thought he was. But he did love Chekov. He loved how Chekov laughed at the stupidest things. He loved how he could tell Chekov anything and know that Chekov would still like him, no matter what. He loved how close Chekov was to his mother and how much he worried about her. He loved Chekov’s sleepy eyes in the morning and his tired smile late at night. Chekov’s hair was finally long enough to curl again, and Sulu loved that too.

Sulu thought about Chekov’s hair. If they were to kiss, Sulu would be able to run his fingers through the wispy curls. He would trace the edge of Chekov’s jaw, which had only started bearing the fine down of a growing beard a year ago. Already, he had to shave every other day. As Chekov got older, his kisses would feel rougher.

Then the kisses would go lower, following Chekov’s jaw to his neck. Sulu would kiss his neck gently at first, but then he would suck it hard enough to leave a huge hickey. It would be a message to the Folsoms and Roemers of the world: “Back off, he’s mine!”

The sonic shower started up in the bathroom, and Sulu’s mind flipped back to his earlier thought. What would it be like if they were sharing the shower? Sulu had showered with some of his ex-girlfriends. Sometimes it had just been sharing the shower and maybe helping wash each other’s hair. Other times, he had pressed her up against the wall and fucked her slowly as the sonic vibrations relaxed their muscles. A few times, Sulu had ended up on the floor of the shower, watching as a girlfriend used him to work herself into a frenzy.

He imagined Chekov like that, on top of Sulu. Chekov would arch his back, pressing down harder with each thrust Sulu made. He would gasp and groan, his eyes fluttering shut as he got closer and closer to coming. And then Sulu would grab Chekov’s cock and pump it in time with his thrusts until Chekov came all over him. The sonic showers would vibrate the spunk right off them, but not before Sulu could taste it and see if Chekov tasted like Sulu himself did.

The sonic shower shut off and Sulu wasn’t surprised to find himself hard. He pulled down his pants and licked his hand. As he listened to the sounds in the other room, he pumped himself, hard, wondering if Chekov could hear and praying that he couldn’t. He didn’t want to pressure Chekov into sex, not while he was still unstable.

The sounds from the bathroom were quiet. Sulu imagined Chekov. He was probably toweling off. Sonic showers tended to make one feel wet, though it was just that the skin’s nerve endings had been stimulated. Chekov always left his towel on the floor, so Sulu knew he used it. He probably ran the towel all over his body, up his arms, down his legs, across his chest. Sulu followed the towel in his mind, wanting to touch every body part it did.

“Hikaru! It is your turn!” Chekov’s shout came as a surprise and startled Sulu. He could feel his cheeks heating up and he stuffed his cock back into his pants.

“Thanks, Pavel.” He waited for Chekov’s door to open and close before he entered the bathroom. Normally he would have pushed inside as soon as Chekov called, brushing his teeth while Chekov tidied up, but he didn’t want Chekov to see his hard-on.

On the bathroom floor was Chekov’s towel. Sulu picked it up. It was still warm from Chekov’s body. He carefully locked the doors. Then he stripped and stepped into the shower. He brought the towel with him—it wouldn’t get wet, so it wouldn’t hurt anything. He turned on the shower and let the vibrations thrum through his body.

He grabbed some lotion—Chekov’s lotion, his mind pointed out—and wrapped his hand around his cock again. He used his other hand to bring the towel up to his face. He could smell lotion on the towel, the same lotion he had in his hand. Had Chekov lathered his body in it after his shower? Or had he used the lotion like Sulu, jerking himself off with it and then wiping the excess on the towel?

Sulu came explosively. Thankfully he had never been loud in bed, and he knew his quiet gasp of breath wouldn’t pass through the door or bulkheads. The towel fell to the ground and he let it stay there as the shower cleaned the spunk and lotion off him.

Well, that answered that question. Teresa had been right; Sulu was bisexual.

He chuckled as he shut off the shower and finished his bedtime routine. He put Chekov’s towel back where it belonged, as he did every night, and then knocked on Chekov’s door. “Pavel, do you want me to leave the doors open tonight?” Leaving their doors open had become a ritual, one that Sulu liked because it made him feel less lonely.

“Da!” Chekov called, and Sulu opened the door. Chekov was already in bed, reading a PADD with the room lights dimmed. He set the PADD aside. “I was just about to go to sleep. Goodnight, Hikaru.”

Sulu wondered if Chekov had been waiting for him to open the doors. The thought that he’d been waiting made Sulu feel kind of warm and fuzzy. “Goodnight, Pavel.” His voice came out softer than he’d expected, betraying his heart.

Chekov just smiled and settled into bed. Sulu went back through the bathroom, turning out the light as he went. As he climbed into bed, Sulu heard Chekov turning off his lights. Sulu voiced the command to turn out the lights in his bedroom.

In the darkness, he could hear Chekov wiggling around in bed. He seemed so far away, though there couldn’t have been a hundred feet between them. Sulu suddenly wished they were already sharing a room, that they were close enough to whisper through the darkness.

Tomorrow, after their first date, Sulu would invite Chekov to sleep over. Chekov had always talked about his parents love with envy; Sulu wanted to prove he had the same kind of love for Chekov. Inviting him over like Chekov’s dad had invited his mom would be a good start.

He closed his eyes and let sleep consume him.

~*~

Chekov happily walked out of sickbay. T’Plen said their sessions were going well. She had helped him integrate the less traumatic half of his memories, and they had just started working on the more painful and vivid rapes. Chekov hadn’t broken down, so he was considering it a great session.

Sulu was waiting for him in the corridor.

“Hikaru! I was not expecting you here!”

Sulu pushed himself off the wall. “Well, when you told me what time you’d be done, I thought we could get lunch afterwards and then spend the rest of the day together.”

“That sounds perfect.” Chekov was glad that Sulu had suggested they spend a day together. He was still relishing the pure feeling of love he had for Sulu, even if that love was tempered by the knowledge that Sulu would never return his feelings.

Sulu had been very supportive through everything, even though he had broken up with Teresa and was going through his own problems. Chekov appreciated how much Sulu cared about him and wanted him to get better. Having someone to trust meant so much more to Chekov after the slave ship, when he hadn’t been able to trust anyone.

They set off for the mess hall. The mess was almost empty, since it was earlier than most of the people on Alpha shift took their lunch breaks, so they sped through the synthesizer lines and grabbed a secluded table in the corner.

Sulu handed over a chocolate fortune cookie, then gestured at Chekov’s plate. “No Chinese today?”

Chekov shook his head. He loved his Chinese food, but he was ready to move on and try something new. “This is something French.” It was a tiny portion of some strange fish dish. Chekov didn’t think he’d like it. So he’d gotten himself a fortune cookie too.

He took a bite of the fish. It was all right, but not his favorite by any means. With that out of the way, he grabbed the chocolate fortune cookie. Really, he loved both kinds of cookies, but the chocolate ones were his favorite. When he was eating alone, he always got chocolate, but he got a plain one when he was eating with Sulu. He knew Sulu would always save him a chocolate one, and having one of each was the best of both worlds.

He cracked open the fortune. “‘Believe it can be done.’”

“...in bed!” Sulu chimed in.

Chekov shook his head. “I will never break you of that habit, will I?”

“Nope.” Sulu cheerfully took a bite out of his Cuban sandwich.

Chekov ate the chocolate fortune cookie, then broke open the other one. “‘Your mind is your greatest asset.’” He waited for Sulu to chime in, but the normal response never came. “No ‘in bed’?”

Sulu smiled warmly. “Well, I’m sure your mind is a great asset in bed, but you’ve saved my ass enough times outside of the bedroom that I don’t want to relegate your mind to only working in there.”

Chekov was blushing. He could feel the heat in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He looked away from Sulu and grabbed one of the halves of the cookie. He ate it slowly, hoping he wouldn’t have to reply to Sulu’s compliment.

He was about to reach for the other piece when Sulu grabbed it and shoved it into his mouth. “Hikaru! Now it won’t come true.”

Sulu shrugged and swallowed his mouthful. “Don’t worry about it. It’s already true.”

Chekov ducked his head. How could Sulu say things like that so easily? Chekov had heard Sulu flirt with many women in the same way, compliments dripping off his lips like honey. He wasn’t sure if it made it better or worse knowing that Sulu only gave a compliment if it was true.

Sulu interrupted Chekov’s thoughts. “So, what do you want to do today?”

“I thought you had already decided.” Sulu usually had something in mind when he invited Chekov to hang out.

Sulu smiled again, bright and happy. “Well, I thought since this is a date, you might wanna pick.”

Chekov’s heart froze. “Date?” It was too much to hope for. Sulu didn’t mean it.

Sulu’s smile dimmed. “Remember, I asked you last night? You agreed we’d made a date of today.”

Chekov had agreed, but he had thought Sulu meant “date” as in “occasion”. Never had he imagined… “You want to date _me_?”

Sulu’s smile disappeared. “Yeah. I thought… I thought maybe you liked me.” He turned to look out at the rest of the mess. “I mean, we can forget it though, if you don’t want it to be a date. We can just hang out.”

“Nyet, nyet! I want it to be a date!” Chekov reached out and grabbed Sulu’s hand where it was holding his sandwich. “I just never thought you would want to date me.”

When Sulu turned back, his face was cautiously optimistic. “Am I the one you were talking about?”

“Who?”

“The man you said you loved.” Sulu pulled his hand away from Chekov’s, but only to set down his sandwich. Then he grabbed Chekov’s hand. “Am I him?”

Chekov stared down at their clasped hands. “Yes.” It was easy to say. He had wanted to say it for so long, and he finally could. He wanted to shout it to the world, to tell everyone. “I love you.”

Sulu squeezed his hand. “Thank god.” Chekov looked up to find him smiling. “Because I love you too.”

Chekov’s heart thumped hard in his chest. This was nothing like he had ever imagined. It was so much more. Quietly confessing their love in the middle of the mess hall was so unromantic, so weird, so perfectly them.

They sat in silence for a couple of seconds, just holding hands and smiling at each other. Then Spock and Kirk entered the mess, talking loudly, and they remembered where they were.

Sulu dropped Chekov’s hand. “I’m not embarrassed, or anything,” he whispered quickly. “I just don’t want to share this yet.”

Chekov nodded and went back to eating his fish. He wasn’t worried. Sulu would never have said he loved Chekov unless he really loved him.

They finished dinner and decided to go play a simulation. In the corridor, away from prying eyes, Chekov reached out and took Sulu’s hand. Sulu squeezed it and they continued on to the simulation rec room. Sulu let Chekov pick the simulation and he chose a fictional terrorist threat that was aimed at destroying early twenty-first century America. There was history for him and bombs and guns for Sulu.

After finishing the simulation by saving America and the world, Chekov suggested they retreat to Sulu’s room and watch a movie. It was comfortable to sit next to one another on Sulu’s bed, Sulu’s arm around Chekov’s shoulders and Chekov’s arm around Sulu’s waist. They watched one movie after another, mostly romantic comedies, which were Sulu’s favorites.

When their stomachs started to growl, they made a run to the mess hall, grabbing pizza and ice cream to eat back in Sulu’s room. They watched a couple more movies, and then Chekov noticed the time.

“You have Alpha shift tomorrow. You should sleep,” Chekov said, pulling away from Sulu’s warm embrace.

Sulu nodded and stood, cleaning up their dinner trays. “You’re right.” He set the trays near the door so they could be taken back to the mess the next day. “I was thinking you might want to sleep over tonight though?”

Sulu was adorable. He had actually blushed, just a little bit, as he asked the question. Surely he would have realized that Chekov wanted to have sex too?

“Da, I would like to sleep over.” Chekov moved to Sulu’s side and pulled him down into a kiss. Sulu seemed a little stiff against him, but he slowly loosened up as Chekov continued to kiss him. “I love you, Hikaru,” Chekov murmured against Sulu’s lips. He wondered if sex with Sulu would feel would be anything like he had imagined. Everything else between them had been so different from his fantasies.

Sulu began kissing him back, hard. Chekov stepped backwards slowly, maneuvering them towards the bed. As he walked, he tried to unbutton Sulu’s shirt, but his hands were trembling. His stomach flopped as his knees hit the back of the bed. What if he wasn’t any good in bed? He hadn’t actually participated in sex in so long.

It didn’t matter. Sulu wouldn’t care. Sulu loved him. Chekov pulled away from the kiss to take a deep breath and calm his nerves. His fingers stilled and he returned to unbuttoning Sulu’s shirt.

Sulu’s hand stopped him. “No, Pavel, I don’t want this.”

Chekov froze. His mind stirred restlessly, wanting to bring up all the memories he had tried to put away. Sulu did not want to have sex with him. Sulu thought he was dirty. A pervert.

No! Sulu didn’t think that! Sulu loved him.

But Sulu could love him and not want to have sex with him at the same time. He could love Chekov and still think he was disgusting. Even if Sulu did not blame him for the slave ship, Chekov had consented to what he had done with Roemer and Folsom and many others onboard the _Enterprise_. Chekov had done those perverted acts of his own free will.

No, Chekov was being stupid. He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he had done those things. Sulu would not hate him for them.

The bed was still right behind Chekov’s knees and he let his legs relax underneath him, falling to a seat on the edge of the bed. He did what T’Plen had taught him to: cleared his mind, breathed deeply, and concentrated on something factual—Sulu’s love for him.

~*~

Their date had gone so well after it had been established that it was a date. Sulu had been nervous about admitting he loved Chekov, but Chekov had said it so easily and with such conviction that it had only confirmed how Sulu felt about him. He loved how upbeat and strong Chekov was, no matter what happened to him.

Their date hadn’t felt that different from a normal day together. They touched more than usual, holding hands and cuddling, but they had thrown playful jibes at one another and had fun doing basically nothing, just like they normally did. It wasn’t until Chekov suggested going to sleep that everything changed.

Sulu thought of being separated from Chekov all night. He hated it. He wanted to be close enough to reach out and run a finger down Chekov’s cheek, to ruffle his hair in the morning to wake him up. So he gathered up his courage and asked Chekov if he wanted to sleep over. And then Chekov agreed, and everything felt right in the world.

Until Chekov kissed him. Sulu hadn’t expected the kiss, and he wanted to pull away at first. But then Chekov wrapped his arms around Sulu and tugged him closer, and Sulu had fallen into the kiss. It was overpowering, the vanilla ice cream on Chekov’s lips tasting sweeter than it had from the bowl. He was drowning in the taste of Chekov, the smell of garlic and pizza on his breath, the soft curls of his hair beneath Sulu’s fingers.

He didn’t realize they had been walking till Chekov pulled away from the kiss and Sulu realized they were at his bed. He kept his eyes on Chekov’s face, watching as his eyes fluttered closed, his eyelashes laying prettily against his cheeks. Chekov was beautiful.

Then Chekov began unbuttoning Sulu’s shirt, his eyes still downcast, and Sulu realized he hadn’t gotten his point across. He took Chekov’s hands in his own to stop him. “No, Pavel, I don’t want this,” he tried to explain. He didn’t want sex, not now. He just wanted to be near Chekov.

Chekov looked up at him with blank eyes. He didn’t say anything for long seconds, until Sulu felt like he sound fill the silence with something, some word, but those blank eyes kept him quiet. At least until Chekov collapsed.

Sulu followed Chekov down, still holding his hands. He landed on his knees, Chekov sitting on the edge of the bed. He caught his breath, cataloguing everything about Chekov to make sure he was alright. Chekov’s eyes were closed, his breathing deep and steady.

He was meditating. Sulu began to breathe again. He tried to bring Chekov out of his mind slowly, running a hand down his cheek over and over, as if he were petting a cat. “Pavel, Pavel, it’s okay. I’m here for you. Pavel…”

Chekov’s breathing grew more erratic, more natural, and his eyes fluttered open. “Hikaru.”

“I’m here.”

Chekov reached up to touch Sulu’s hand on his face. “You love me? I am not dirty?”

“Yes, yes. I love you.” Saying it so bluntly was embarrassing, but Chekov needed to hear it. “You aren’t dirty. You’re perfect.”

“Then why do you not want to have sex with me?” Chekov’s eyes pleaded with him for an answer.

Sulu kissed the expression off Chekov’s face. “I do want to have sex with you. Just not now.” He moved until he was sitting on the bed next to Chekov. “I want to take this slow. I’ve never thought about a man like this before and you’re still dealing with so much.”

Chekov’s hands twitched in his lap. “But you do want me someday?”

“God, yes.” Chekov didn’t seem to believe him. His hands twitched again, his fingers reaching out for something and finding nothing. Sulu grabbed Chekov’s hands to still them. He had to convince Chekov that he was loved. “When we’re both ready for it, I will make love to you. I will lay you down and worship your body. I will love you with everything I have in me.”

Chekov stared at him with wide eyes. “You love me.”

“I love you.” As Sulu watched Chekov come to terms with that knowledge, the last of his doubts melted away. It didn’t matter that Chekov was a man. He was Chekov, and he was everything. Sulu loved him more than he had ever loved anyone before, and his love was still growing. He was sure that in a year, love for Chekov would consume his heart completely. In five years, his soul would be bound to Chekov. In ten years, there would be nothing of him that Chekov did not own.

Chekov shook his slowly. “You asked me to sleep over. I do not understand.”

Sulu looked down at their entwined hands. “I, um, probably should have worded that better. I was thinking of your parents, and what you told me, and I thought maybe you could sleep in here with me instead of all the way in your own room.” Really, though, it was a silly idea. What had Sulu been thinking? “That’s stupid though. I mean, you’re right there. Hell, we can hear each other breathing—”

Chekov cut him off with a kiss. “You are a sap.”

Sulu was totally a sap. God, how embarrassing. “I know, it was stupid.”

“No! It was romantic!” Chekov flung his arms around Sulu. “I love it. I will go get my things now.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Chekov peeled away and dashed to the bathroom door. “You can shower while I am getting my things ready.” His eyes sparkled. “Do not worry, I will not peek. I will use the outside corridor to get back here.”

Sulu tossed a pillow at his head. “I don’t care if you cut through the bathroom, dork. There’s frosted glass around the shower for a reason.”

Chekov stuck out his tongue. “Fine. I _will_ peek then.” He grinned and ran into his room before Sulu could throw another pillow.

Sulu rolled his eyes and went to take a shower. He could see the shape of Chekov passing outside the shower stall, and his heart clenched. He was so in love. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of and more. Overwhelmed by the feeling, he had to tell Chekov again. When Chekov’s shape appeared outside of the stall, Sulu called, “I love you!”

Chekov stopped where he was. “Does that mean I can peek?”

Sulu laughed and pulled back the stall door enough to stick his head out. “Come here.” Chekov came closer, and Sulu reached out to pull him in. He kissed Chekov, hard. “I love you.”

Chekov was flushed, but his broad smile told Sulu it was because of happiness. “I love you too.” He moved out of Sulu’s reach. “Sap.”

Sulu gave Chekov a dirty hand gesture and ducked back into the shower. Chekov giggled as he left the bathroom. Sulu loved that sound. He would do everything he could to keep Chekov giggling until they died.

~*~

Chekov settled his pillow and blanket onto Sulu’s bed. It was only a single, so it would be a tight fit, but Chekov didn’t mind. He couldn’t believe Sulu had actually meant “sleep over” when he asked Chekov to sleep over. It was so incredibly romantic and sappy. He shouldn’t have expected anything less from Sulu though; the man’s favorite movies included Romeo and Juliet. He was as sappy as a guy could get and Chekov loved it.

Sulu got out of the shower, fully dressed to Chekov’s disappointment. He hadn’t really been kidding about peeking. He was more than ready for sex with Sulu, especially after the speech Sulu had made, but he adored Sulu for taking things slow.

They shared the bathroom as they finished getting ready for bed. Sulu stepped out so Chekov could put on his pajamas, and when Chekov entered the room, Sulu was standing next to the bed.

“Um…” Sulu glanced down at Chekov’s pillow. “I thought you would probably want to sleep in a sleeping bag? Or I could sleep in the sleeping bag?”

As endearing as Sulu’s hesitancy was, it was also frustrating. “I have dreamt about sleeping with you for months.” Well, he had dreamt about having sex with Sulu for months after the ship screwed him up, but they had usually fallen asleep together afterwards in the fantasies. It counted. “I will not sleep on the floor when I can sleep next to you.”

Sulu frowned. “Are you sure? Because I’m totally fine with sleeping on the floor.”

Chekov sat down on the edge of the bed. “I am sure.” In one movement, he reached up, caught Sulu’s hands, and tugged. They both fell onto the bed, Chekov landing on his back and Sulu landing on Chekov. Once Chekov had gotten his breath back, he added, “I do not need you to protect me, okay? I can protect myself. If I do not want something, I will tell you.”

“But—”

Chekov kissed him to silence him. “Do not protect me. Just love me.”

Sulu nodded. “I can do that.”

They settled into the bed, facing each other. There would have been more room if they spooned, but Chekov didn’t want to take his eyes off Sulu’s face. It was impossible that so much had happened in just one day. He expected to wake up in the morning and realize it had all been a dream. Or for it to be real and for Sulu to wake up and realize he had lost his mind and reject Chekov.

But the feel of Sulu in his arms was too incredible to be a dream.

Chekov closed his eyes, determined to fall asleep. If there was anywhere in the universe that was safe, it was right here in his Hikaru’s arms. Chekov didn’t need Sulu to protect him. He was strong now, whole again. The safety lay in the trust he had in Sulu. Chekov trusted many people: his mother, Captain Kirk, Doctor McCoy, T’Plen. But there was no one he trusted as much as Hikaru Sulu.

Chekov fell asleep, trusting that Hikaru would be there in the morning, still loving him.

****

~The End~


End file.
